"It seemed as if half the family were gone. But how long does Ida's
mother mean to keep her?"
"A month or six weeks," was the reply.
"But," said Jack, his suspicions returning, "I have been told that
Ida has twice called at a baker's shop in this city, and, when asked
what her name was, answered Ida Hardwick.' You don't mean to say
that you pretend to be her mother?"
"Yes, I do," returned Peg, calmly.
"It's a lie," said Jack, vehemently. "She isn't your daughter."
"Young man," said Peg, with wonderful self-command, "you are
exciting yourself to no purpose. You asked me if I _pretended_ to be
her mother. I do pretend; but I admit, frankly, that it is all
pretence."
"I don't understand what you mean," said Jack, mystified.
"Then I will take the trouble to explain it to you. As I informed
your father and mother, when in New York, there are circumstances
which stand in the way of Ida's real mother recognizing her as her
own child. Still, as she desires her company, in order to avert all
suspicion, and prevent embarrassing questions being asked, while she
remains in Philadelphia she is to pass as my daughter."
This explanation was tolerably plausible, and Jack was unable to
gainsay it, though it was disagreeable to him to think of even a
nominal connection between Ida and the woman before him.
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