“Who’s there?” asked Ida.

“A friend,” was the reply.

“Mrs. Hardwick—­Peg isn’t at home,” returned Ida.  “I don’t know when she will be back.”

“Then I will come in and wait till she comes back,” said the voice outside.

“I can’t open the door,” said Ida.  “It’s fastened on the outside.”

“Yes, I see.  Then I will take the liberty to draw the bolt.”

Mr. John Somerville entered the room, and for the first time in eight years his glance fell upon the child whom, for so long a time, he had defrauded of a mother’s care and tenderness.

Ida returned to the window.

“How beautiful she is!” thought Somerville, with surprise.  “She inherits all her mother’s rare beauty.”

On the table beside Ida was a drawing.

“Whose is this?” he inquired.

“Mine,” answered Ida.

“So you have learned to draw?”

“A little,” answered the child, modestly.

“Who taught you?  Not the woman you live with?”

“No;” said Ida.

“You have not always lived with her, I am sure.”

Ida admitted that she had not.

“You lived in New York with a family named Crump, did you not?”

“Do you know father and mother?” asked Ida, with sudden hope.  “Did they send you for me?”

“I will tell you that by and by, my child; but I want to ask you a few questions first.  Why does this woman Peg lock you in whenever she goes away?”

“I suppose,” said Ida, “she is afraid I will run away.”

“Then she knows you don’t want to live with her?”

“Oh, yes, she knows that,” said the child, frankly.  “I have asked her to send me home, but she says she won’t for a year.”

“And how long have you been with her?”

“About a fortnight.”

“What does she make you do?”

“I can’t tell what she made me do first.”

“Why not?”

“Because she would be very angry.”

“Suppose I should tell you that I would deliver you from her.  Would you be willing to go with me?”

“And you would carry me back to my mother and father?”

“Certainly, I would restore you to your mother,” said he, evasively.

“Then I will go with you.”

Ida ran quickly to get her bonnet and shawl.

“We had better go at once,” said Somerville.  “Peg might return, and give us trouble.”

“O yes, let us go quickly,” said Ida, turning pale at the remembered threats of Peg.

Neither knew yet that Peg could not return if she would; that, at this very moment, she was in legal custody on a charge of a serious nature.  Still less did Ida know that, in going, she was losing the chance of seeing Jack and her mother, of whose existence, even, she was not yet aware; and that he, to whose care she consigned herself so gladly, had been her worst enemy.

“I will carry you to my room, in the first place,” said her companion.  “You must remain in concealment for a day or two, as Peg will, undoubtedly, be on the lookout for you, and we want to avoid all trouble.”