“My God, I thank thee!” murmured Mrs. Clifton; “for this, my child, was lost and is found.”

“Ida,” said Jack, “this lady is your mother.”

“My mother!” said the child, bewildered.  “Have I two mothers?”

“Yes, but this is your real mother.  You were brought to our house when you were an infant, and we have always taken care of you; but this lady is your real mother.”

Ida hardly knew whether to feel glad or sorry.

“And you are not my brother?”

“You shall still consider him your brother, Ida,” said Mrs. Clifton.  “Heaven forbid that I should wean your heart from the friends who have cared so kindly for you!  You shall keep all your old friends, and love them as dearly as ever.  You will only have one friend the more.”

“Where are we going?” asked Ida, suddenly.

“We are going home.”

“What will the gentleman say?”

“What gentleman?”

“The one that took me away from Peg’s.  Why, there he is now!”

Mrs. Clifton followed the direction of Ida’s finger, as she pointed to a gentleman passing.

“Is he the one?”

“Yes, mamma,” said Ida, shyly.

Mrs. Clifton pressed Ida to her breast.  It was the first time she had ever been called mamma.  It made her realize, more fully, her present happiness.

Arrived at the house, Jack’s bashfulness returned.  He hung back, and hesitated about going in.

Mrs. Clifton observed this.

“Jack,” said she, “this house is to be your home while you remain in Philadelphia.  Come in, and Thomas shall go for your baggage.”

“Perhaps I had better go with him,” said Jack.  “Uncle Abel will be glad to know that Ida is found.”

“Very well; only return soon.”

“Well!” thought Jack, as he re-entered the (sic) carraige, and gave the direction to the coachman; “won’t Uncle Abel be a little surprised when he sees me coming home in such style!”

CHAPTER XXVI.

“NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND.”

MEANWHILE, Peg was passing her time wearily enough in prison.  It was certainly provoking to be deprived of her freedom just when she was likely to make it most profitable.  After some reflection, she determined to send for Mrs. Clifton, and reveal to her all she knew, trusting to her generosity for a recompense.

To one of the officers of the prison she communicated the intelligence that she had an important revelation to make to Mrs. Clifton, and absolutely refused to make it unless the lady would visit her in prison.

Scarcely had Mrs. Clifton returned home, after recovering her child, than the bell rang, and a stranger was introduced.

“Is this Mrs. Clifton?” he inquired.

“It is.”

“Then I have a message for you.”

The lady inclined her head.

“You must know, madam, that I am one of the officers connected with the City Prison.  A woman was placed in confinement this morning, who says she has a most important communication to make to you, but declines to make it except to you in person.”