“Can you bring her here, sir?”

“That is impossible.  We will give you every facility, however, for visiting her in prison.”

“It must be Peg,” whispered Ida; “the woman that carried me off.”

Such a request Mrs. Clifton could not refuse.  She at once made ready to accompany the officer.  She resolved to carry Ida with her, fearful that, unless she kept her in her immediate presence, she might disappear again as before.

As Jack had not yet returned, a hack was summoned, and they proceeded at once to the prison.  Ida shuddered as she passed beneath the gloomy portal which shut out hope and the world from so many.

“This way, madam!”

They followed the officer through a gloomy corridor, until they came to the cell in which Peg was confined.

The tenant of the cell looked surprised to find Mrs. Clifton accompanied by Ida.

“How do you do, Ida?” she said, smiling grimly; “you see I’ve moved.  Just tell your mother she can sit down on the bed.  I’m sorry I haven’t any rocking-chair or sofa to offer you.”

“O Peg,” said Ida, her tender heart melted by the woman’s misfortunes; “how sorry I am to find you here!”

“Are you sorry?” asked Peg, looking at her in surprise.

“You haven’t much cause to be.  I’ve been your worst enemy, or one of the worst.”

“I can’t help it,” said the child, her face beaming with a divine compassion; “it must be so sad to be shut up here, and not be able to go out into the bright sunshine.  I do pity you.”

Peg’s heart was not wholly hardened.  Few are.  But it was long since it had been touched as it was now by this great pity on the part of one she had injured.

“You’re a good girl, Ida,” she said; “and I’m sorry I’ve injured you.  I didn’t think I should ever ask forgiveness of anybody; but I do ask your forgiveness.”

The child rose, and advancing towards Peg, took her large hand in (sic) her’s and said, “I forgive you, Peg.”

“From your heart?”

“With all my heart.”

“Thank you, child.  I feel better now.  There have been times when I thought I should like to lead a better life.”

“It is not too late now, Peg.”

Peg shook her head.

“Who will trust me after I have come from here?”

“I will,” said Mrs. Clifton, speaking for the first time.

“You will?”

“Yes.”

“And yet you have much to forgive.  But it was not my plan to steal your daughter from you.  I was poor, and money tempted me.”

“Who could have had an interest in doing me this cruel wrong?”

“One whom you know well,—­Mr. John Somerville.”

“Surely, you are wrong!” exclaimed Mrs. Clifton, in unbounded astonishment.  “It cannot be.  What object could he have had?”

“Can you think of none?” queried Peg, looking at her shrewdly.

Mrs. Clifton changed color.  “Perhaps so,” she said.  “Go on.”