She had laid aside her shawl, rolled up her sleeves, and was all ready to begin her work. Jack, delighted to see her so energetic, embraced her with his whole heart, and left his room in a very joyous frame of mind. With what courage he toiled all day! The present unfortunate career and hopeless future of his mother had troubled him for some time, and marred his joys and his hopes. To what depth of degradation would D’Argenton compel her to sink! To what end was she destined! Now all was changed. Ida, tenderly protected by his filial love, would become worthy of her whom she would some day call “my daughter.” It seemed to Jack, moreover, that this event in some way diminished the distance between Cécile and himself, and he smiled to himself as he thought of it. But after his work, as he drew near his home, he was seized by a panic. Should he find his mother there? He knew with what promptitude Ida gave wings to her fancies and caprices, and he feared lest she had felt the temptation to re-tie the knot so hastily broken. But on the staircase this dread vanished. Above all the noises of the house he heard a fresh, clear voice singing like a lark. Jack stood on the threshold in mute amazement. Thoroughly freshened and cleaned, with Bélisaire’s goods gone, and with the addition of a pretty bed and dainty dressing-bureau, the room looked like a different place. There were flowers on the chimney, and the table was spread with a white cloth, on which stood a tempting-looking pie and a bottle of wine. Ida, in an embroidered skirt and loose sack, a little cap mounted on the top of her puffs, hardly looked like herself. “Well!” she said, running to meet him; “and what do you think of it!” “It is altogether charming. And how quick you have been!” “Yes; Bélisaire helped me, and his nice widow also. I have invited them to dine with us.” “But what will you do for dishes?” “You will see. I have bought a few, and our neighbors on the other side have lent me some. They are very obliging also.” Jack, who had never thought these people particularly complaisant, opened his eyes wide. “But this is not all. I went to buy this pie at a place where they sell them fifteen cents less than anywhere else. It was so far, however, that I had to take a carriage to return.” This was thoroughly characteristic. A carriage at two francs to save fifteen cents! She evidently knew where the best things were to be found. The bread came from the Vienna bakery, and the coffee and dessert from the _Palais Royale_. Jack listened with a sinking heart. She saw that something was wrong. “Have I spent too much?” she asked. “No, I think not,—for one occasion,” he answered, with same hesitation. “But I have not been extravagant. Look here,” she said, and she showed him a long green book; “in this I mean to keep my accounts. I will show my entries to you after dinner.”