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Solution Manual for Accounting Information
Systems, 10th Edition
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Description:
Gain a strong understanding of the accounting information systems and related
technologies you'll use in your business career with Hall's leading ACCOUNTING
INFORMATION SYSTEMS, 10E. You'll find a unique emphasis on ethics, fraud, and
the modern manufacturing environment. This edition focuses on the needs and
responsibilities of accounting system designers and auditors. Coverage discusses
Sarbanes-Oxley as it affects internal controls and other relevant topics. Examine
the risks and advantages of IT outsourcing including cloud computing. With
thorough updates of the transaction cycle and business processes coverage, you
also gain a solid understanding of the risks and internal control issues related to a
range of accounting information system technologies employed by today's small
and large business organizations.
About the Author
James A. Hall is a Professor of Accounting, co-director of the Computer Science
and Business program, and the Peter E. Bennett Chair in Business and Economics
at Lehigh University in Bethlehem, PA. After his discharge from the U.S. Army, he
entered the University of Tulsa in 1970 and received a B.S.B.A. in 1974 and an
M.B.A. in 1976. He earned his Ph.D. from Oklahoma State University in 1979. Dr.
Hall has worked in the field of systems analysis and computer auditing and has
served as consultant in these areas to numerous organizations. Dr. Hall has
published articles in the Journal of Accounting, Auditing & Finance, Journal of MIS,
Communications of the ACM, Journal Of Management Systems, Management
Accounting, Journal Of Computer Information Systems, The Journal Of Accounting
Education, The Review Of Accounting Information Systems, and other
professional journals. He is also the author of ACCOUNTING INFORMATION
SYSTEMS and INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY AUDITING, both published by
Cengage. His research interests include internal controls, computer fraud and IT
outsourcing.
• ISBN-10 : 1337619205
• ISBN-13 : 978-1337619202
Table contents:
Part I: Overview of Accounting Information Systems
Chapter 1: The Information System: An Accountant's Perspective
The Information Environment
Organizational Structure and AIS
The Role of Accountants in AIS
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 2: Introduction to Transaction Processing
An Overview of Transaction Processing
Accounting Records
File Structures
Documentation Techniques
Transaction Processing Models
Data Coding Schemes
Summary
Appendix: Data Structures
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 3: Ethics, Fraud, and Internal Control
Ethical Issues in Business
Fraud and Accountants
Internal Control Concepts and Techniques
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Part II: Transaction Cycles and Business Processes
Chapter 4: The Revenue Cycle
The Conceptual System
Physical Systems
Summary
Appendix: Sales Return System
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Internal Control Cases
Chapter 5: The Expenditure Cycle Part I: Purchases and Cash Disbursements
Procedures
The Conceptual System
Physical Systems
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Internal Control Cases
Chapter 6: The Expenditure Cycle Part II: Payroll Processing and Fixed Asset
Procedures
The Conceptual Payroll System
The Physical Payroll System
The Conceptual Fixed Asset System
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Internal Control Cases
Chapter 7: The Conversion Cycle
The Traditional Manufacturing Environment
World-Class Companies and Lean Manufacturing
Techniques and Technologies That Promote Lean Manufacturing
Accounting in a Lean Manufacturing Environment
Information Systems That Support Lean Manufacturing
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Internal Control Cases
Chapter 8: Financial Reporting and Management Reporting Systems
The General Ledger System
XBRL-Reengineering Financial Reporting
Controlling the GL/FRS
The Management Reporting System
Data Analytics and Ad Hoc Reporting
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Part III: Advanced Technologies in Accounting Information
Chapter 9: Database Management Systems
Overview of the Flat-File versus Database Approach
Elements of the Database Environment
The Relational Database Model
Top-Down Approach to Designing Relational Databases
Databases in a Distributed Environment
Summary
Appendix: Distinguishing Features of Structured Databases
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 10: The REA Approach to Database Modeling
The REA Approach
Developing an REA Model
View Integration: Creating an Enterprise-Wide REA Model
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 11: Enterprise Resource Planning Systems
What Is an ERP?
ERP System Configurations
Data Warehousing
Risks Associated with ERP Implementation
Implications for Internal Control and Auditing
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 12: Electronic Commerce Systems
Intra-Organizational Networks and EDI
Internet Commerce
Risks Associated with Electronic Commerce
Security, Assurance, and Trust
Implications for the Accounting Profession
Summary
Appendix: Intra-Organizational Electronic Commerce
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Part IV: Systems Development Activities
Chapter 13: Systems Development and Program Change Activities
The Systems Development Process
Participants in Systems Development
Information Systems Acquisition
The Systems Development Life Cycle
The Role of Accountants
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Part V: Computer Controls and IT Auditing
Chapter 14: Auditing IT Controls Part I: Sarbanes-Oxley and IT Governance
Overview of Auditing
Financial Audit Components
Structure of an Audit
Overview of SOX Sections 302 and 404
IT Governance Controls
Organizational Structure Controls
Computer Center Security and Controls
Disaster Recovery Planning
Outsourcing the IT Function
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 15: Auditing IT Controls Part II: Security and Access
Controlling the Operating System
Controlling Database Management Systems
Controlling Networks
Electronic Data Interchange Controls
Summary
Appendix: Malicious and Destructive Programs
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Chapter 16: Auditing IT Controls Part III: Systems Development, Program Changes,
and Application Aud
Systems Development Controls
IT Application Control Testing and Substantive Testing
Internal Control Testing Techniques
Substantive Testing Techniques
Summary
Key Terms
Review Questions
Discussion Questions
Multiple-Choice Questions
Problems
Glossary
Index
 Another Random Document on
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 "I have lost my beauty—
Fate has bereft me,
Fortune has left me,
None owes me duty.

I have lost my lover;

I shall not recover.
Our Lady of Lorraine,
Pity my pain!"

They paused to listen to this naïve melody of other days, then

strolled on.
Madame de Moidrey said:
"She is very interesting, your little friend from Ausone."
"I am glad you think so."
"Oh, yes, there is no doubt about her being clever and
intelligent.... I wonder where she acquired her aplomb."
"Would you call it that?"
Madame de Moidrey smiled:
"No, it is a gentler quality—not devoid of sweetness. I think we
may label it a becoming self-possession.... Anyway, it is a quality and
not a trait—if that pleases you."
"She has quality."
"She has a candor which is almost disturbingly transparent.
When I was a girl I saw Gilbert's comedy, 'The Palace of Truth.' And
actually, I believe that your little friend, Philippa, could have entered
that terrible house of unconscious self-revelation without any need
of worrying."
"You couldn't praise her more sincerely if you think that," he
said. "She offers virgin soil for anybody who will take any trouble
with her."
"Oh," said Madame de Moidrey, laughing, "I thought I was to
engage her to aid me and amuse me; but it seems that I have been
engaged to educate her in the subtler refinements of civilized
existence!"
"Don't you want to?" asked Warner, bluntly.
"Dear friend of many more years than I choose to own to, have
I not enough to occupy me without adopting a wandering caissière
de cabaret?"
"Is that the way you feel?" he said, reddening.
"Don't be cross! No; it isn't the way I feel. I do need a
companion. Perhaps your friend Philippa is not exactly the
companion I might have dreamed about or aspired to——"
"If you look at it in that way——"
"Jim! Don't be rude, either! I desire two things; I want a
companion and I wish to oblige you. You know perfectly well I do....
Besides, the girl is interesting. You didn't expect me to
sentimentalize over her, did you? You may do that if you like. As for
me, I shall consider engaging her if she cares to come to me."
"She will be very glad to," he said, coolly.
Madame de Moidrey cast a swift side glance at him, full of
curiosity and repressed amusement.
"Men," she said, "are the real sentimentalists in this matter-of-
fact world, not women. Merely show a man a pretty specimen of the
opposite sex in the conventional attitude of distress, and it
unbalances his intellect immediately."
"Do you imagine that my youthful friend Philippa has
unbalanced my intellect?" he asked impatiently.
"Not entirely. Not completely——"
"Nonsense!"
"What a bad-mannered creature you are, Jim! But fortunately
you're something else, too. For example, you have been nice about
this very unusual and somewhat perilously attractive young girl. Few
men would have been so. Don't argue! I have known a few men in
my time. And I pay you a compliment."
She stopped and leaned back against a weatherworn vase of
stone which crowned the terrace parapet.
"Listen, Jim; for a woman to take into her house a young girl
with this girl's unknown antecedents and perfectly well-known past
performances ought not to be a matter of romantic impulse, or of
sympathy alone. What you tell me about her, what I myself have
already seen of her, are sufficient to inspire the interest which all
romance arouses, and the sympathy which all lonely youth inspires.
But these are not enough.
"Choice of companionship is a matter for serious consideration.
You can't make a companion of the intellectually inferior, of one who
possesses merely the lesser instincts, of any lesser nature, whether
cultivated to its full extent or otherwise. You know that. We shun
what is not congenial."
He looked at her very intently, the dull red still flushing his face;
and she surveyed him critically, amiably, amused at his attitude,
which was the epitome of everything masculine.
 "What are you going to do about her?" he inquired at last.
"Offer to engage her."
"As what?"
"A companion."
"Oh. Then you do appreciate her?"
Madame de Moidrey threw back her pretty head and laughed
with delicious abandon.
"Perhaps I don't appreciate her as deeply as you do, Jim, but I
shall humbly endeavor to do so. Now, suppose, when you go back to
the Golden Peach, you send Philippa's effects up here, and in the
meanwhile I'll begin my duty of finishing Philippa's education—for
which duty, I understand, I'm engaged by you——"
"Ethra, you are a trump! And I don't really mind your guying me
——"
"Indeed, I'm not guying you, dear friend! I'm revealing to you
the actual inwardness of this entire and remarkable performance of
yours. And if you don't know that you are engaging me to finish this
young girl's education while you're making up your mind about your
sentiments concerning her, then it's time you did."
"That is utterly——"
"Please! And it's all the truer because you don't believe it! ...
Jim, the girl really is a pathetic figure—simple, sweet, intelligent, and
touchingly honest.... And I'll say another thing.... God knows what
mother bore her, what parents are responsible for this young thing—
with her delicate features and slender body. But it was not from a
pair of unhappy nobodies she inherited her mind, which seems to
seek instinctively what is fine and right amid the sordid complexities
of the only world she has ever known.
 "As for her heart, Jim, it is the heart of a child—with one
heavenly and exaggerated idol completely filling it. You! ... And I tell
you very plainly that, if I were a man, the knowledge of this would
frighten me a little, and make me rather more serious than many
men are inclined to be."
He bit his lip and looked out across the southern valley, where
already the August haze was growing bluer, blurring the low-hanging
sun.
She laid a friendly, intimate, half humorous hand on his arm:
"In all right-thinking men the boy can never die. No experience
born of pain, no cynicism, no incredulity acquired through
disappointment, can kill the boy in any man until it has first slain his
soul. Otherwise, chivalry in the world had long since become extinct.
"You have done what you could do for Philippa. I am really glad
to help you, Jim. But from now on, be very careful and very sure of
yourself. Because now your real responsibility begins."
He had not thought of it in that way. And now he did not care
to.
To sympathize, to protect, to admire—these were born of
impulse and reason, which, in turn, had their origin in unconscious
condescension.
To applaud the admirable, to express a warm concern for virtue
in difficulties, meant merely sincere recognition, not the intimacy of
that equality of mind and circumstance which existed per se
between himself and such a woman as Madame de Moidrey.
The very word "protection" implies condescension, conscious or
unconscious. We may love what we protect; we never, honestly,
place it on a pedestal, or even on a mathematical level with
ourselves. It can't be done.
And so, in a vague sort of way, Warner remained incredulous of
the impossible with which Madame de Moidrey had smilingly
menaced him.
Only, of course, she was quite right; he must not thoughtlessly
arouse the woman in the girl Philippa.
But there is nothing in the world that ought more thoroughly to
arouse the best qualities of manhood in a man than the innocent
adoration of a young girl. For if he could really believe himself to be
even a shadow of what she believes he is, the world might really
become the most agreeable of residential planets.
As Warner and Madame de Moidrey entered the music room
through the open French windows, Philippa turned from the piano
and her soft voice died out in the quaint refrain she had been
accompanying.
She rose instinctively, which was more than Peggy did, having
no reverence for age in her own sister—and Madame de Moidrey
came forward and took the girl's slender hands in hers.
"Have you concluded to remain with me?" she asked, smilingly.
"I did not understand that you had asked me," said the girl
gravely.
"I do ask you."
Philippa looked at Warner, then lifted her grey eyes to the elder
woman.
"You are very kind, Madame. I—it will be a great happiness to
me if you accept my services."
 The Countess de Moidrey regarded her, still retaining her hands,
still smiling.
"You have a very sweet way of making the acceptance mine and
not yours," she said. "Let us accept each other, Philippa. Will you?"
"You are most kind, Madame——"
"Can kindness win you?"
"Madame, it has already."
The American widow of the recent Count de Moidrey felt a
curious sensation of uncertainty in the quiet self-possession of this
young girl—in her serenity, in her modulated voice and undisturbed
manner.
An odd idea persisted that the graciousness was not entirely on
her own part; that there was something even more subtle than
graciousness on the part of this girl, whose delicate hands lay, cool
and smooth, within her own.
It was not manner, for there was none on Philippa's part; not
reticence, for that argues a conscious effort or a still more conscious
lack of effort. Perhaps, through the transparent simplicity of the girl,
the older woman's intuition caught a glimpse of finer traditions than
she herself had been born to—sensed the far, faint ring of finer and
more ancient metal.
And after a moment she felt that courtesy, deference, and
propinquity alone held Philippa's grave grey eyes; that the soul
which looked fearlessly and calmly out of them at her could not be
lightly flattered or lightly won; and that, released from their
conventional duty, those clear eyes of grey would seek their earthly
idol as logically as the magnetic needle swings to its magnet.
 Very subtly, as she stood there, the sympathy of the older
woman widened to include respect. And, unconsciously, she turned
and looked at Warner with the amused and slightly malicious smile
of a woman who detects in a man the characteristic obtuseness from
which her own and feminine instinct has rescued her just in time to
prevent mistakes.
Then, turning to Philippa, she said:
"Our family of three is a very small one, dear, but I think it is
going to be a happy one.... What was that song that you and Peggy
were trying when we came in?"
"It is called 'Noblesse Oblige,' Madame. It is a very ancient
song."
"It is as old as the world," said the Countess. "Peggy, will you
try the accompaniment? And will you sing it, Philippa?"
"If you wish it, Madame."
The Countess de Moidrey stepped aside and seated herself; the
grey eyes left her to seek and find their magnet; and, having found
it, smiled.
As for the magnet himself, he stood there deep in perplexity and
trouble, beginning slowly to realize how profoundly his mind and
affections had already become involved in the fate of a very young
girl, and in the problems of life which must now begin to threaten
and confront her.

"Namur, Liége—
Le dur siége
Noblesse oblige
sang Philippa—

"Namurois, Liégeois,
La lois des Bois
Exige
Noblesse—noblesse oblige—"'

The Countess de Moidrey rested her face on her hand, looking

curiously at the young girl from whose lips the old phrase fell so
naturally, so confidently, with such effortless and inborn
understanding—noblesse—noblesse oblige.

CHAPTER XXIII

Philippa's trunk had gone to the Château des Oiseaux, and the Inn
of the Golden Peach knew her no longer.
Warner, who usually adored the prospect of a month all alone
after his class had left for the season, found to his surprise that he
was experiencing a slight sense of loneliness.
The inn, the garden, seemed to him uncommonly still; and at
first he thought he missed the gallinaceous chatter of the Harem,
then he was very sure that he regretted Halkett acutely.
Ariadne, sitting in the sun by the deserted summer-house in the
garden, always greeted him with a plaintive little mew which,
somehow or other, sounded to him pointedly reproachful.
 The cat evidently missed Halkett, perhaps Philippa. Warner
remembered that he had been requested to be polite and agreeable
to Ariadne, and, whenever he recollected these obligations, he
dutifully hoisted the animal to his shoulder and promenaded her. For
which, no doubt, the cat was grateful, but as she was also beginning
to shed her coat in preparation for a brand-new set of winter furs,
Warner found the intimacy with Ariadne slightly trying.
There were no other guests at the inn. Now and then during the
next three or four days officers stopped their automobiles for a few
moments' refreshment, or to replenish their gasoline tanks. But early
one morning a big motor truck, driven by a little, red-legged, boyish
pioupiou, and guarded by three others, equally youthful, took away
the entire supply of gasoline and ordered Madame Arlon to remove
the sign advertising it.
They drove away through the early autumn sunshine, singing
the "Adoro," not the one best known, but that version attributed to
the Scottish Queen, and they looked and sang like three little choir
boys masquerading in the uniforms of their fathers.
Warner had been sketching in the meadow across the road that
day, feeling restless and unaccountably depressed. It was one of
those still, hazy mornings in early August, when the world seems too
quiet and the sky too perfect for inaction or repose.
He had pitched his easel near the river, perhaps because it
remained busy; and where, if any troops or military trains passed
along the quarry road, he could see them. Also, from there he could
look down over the road hedge and see the motor cycles whiz by
and military automobiles with a streak of crimson, turquoise and
silver uniforms in the tonneau.
 But none came. Two or three gendarmes, with white and yellow
trappings, passed toward Ausone at a gallop while he sat there, but
across the river nothing stirred save a kestrel soaring.
According to the Petit Journal d'Ausone of the day before, war
had already burst over eastern Belgium full blast and the famous
forts so long celebrated as impregnable were beginning to crumble
away under an avalanche of gigantic shells.
As he sat there under the calm sky, painting leisurely, relighting
his pipe at intervals, he tried to realize that such things as
bombardments and sieges and battles were going on to the north of
where he was—not so very far north, either. But he could not seem
to grasp it as an actual fact. For the monstrous and imbecile
actuality of such a war seemed still to remain outside his
comprehension; his intelligence had not yet accepted it—not
encompassed and digested the fact—and he could not get rid of the
hopefully haunting feeling that presently somebody or something
somewhere or other would stop all this amazing insanity, and that
the diplomats would begin again where they had left off only a few
days ago.
It was the illimitable proportions of the calamity—the magnitude
of the catastrophe—the cataclysmic menace of it that still left his
mind slightly stunned, as it had paralyzed the minds of every
civilized human being, and suspended for a space the power of
thought in the world.
As yet, all these enormous, impossible threats of governments
and emperors seemed to be some gigantic, fantastic, and grotesque
hoax which the sovereigns and chancelleries of Europe were playing
in concert to frighten a humdrum world out of its five dull wits.
 And yet, under the incredulity, and the mental obscurity and
inertia, deep within the dazed hearts of men a measured and terrible
pulse had already begun to throb steadily, with an unchanging and
dreadful rhythm. It was the clairvoyant prophecy of the world's
subconscious self stirring, thrilling to that red future already
breaking, and warning all mankind that the day of wrath had
dawned at last.
But to Warner the most unreal part of it all was not the dusty
fantassins in column, slouching forward toward the north—not the
clinking, jingling cuirassiers on their big battle horses, not the
dragoons riding with rapt, exalted faces under forests of tall lances,
not the clanking artillery, the heavy military wagons and motor
trucks, nor the galloping gendarmes which passed the inn every
hour or two.
What had become suddenly unreal to him was the green and
sunlit serenity of the world itself—the breeze ruffling the clover,
poppies glowing deep in fields of golden wheat and barley, the
melody of the flowing river, the quiet blue overhead, the tenderness
of leaf and blossom, and the blessed stillness of the world.
Relighting his pipe, he looked at the swallows soaring and
sailing high above the Récollette; noticed butterflies hovering and
flitting everywhere; heard the golden splashing of the river, the sigh
of leaves and rushes. The word "war" still remained a word to him,
but in the sunshine and the silence he began to divine the immobility
of menace—something unseen and evil which was quietly waiting.
Ariadne had come across from the garden, ostensibly to hunt
meadow mice, really for company.
Sniffing and snooping around his color box, she got one dainty
whisker in the ultramarine, and had enough of art. So she went off,
much annoyed, to sit by herself in the grass and do some scrubbing.
After a while the fixed persistency with which she stared across the
meadow attracted his attention and he, also, turned and looked that
way.
As he saw nothing in particular to stare at, he presently
resumed his sketching and his troubled thoughts. The latter
concerned the girl Philippa. Not since he had taken her to the
Château had he seen her. And that was four days ago.
He didn't know exactly why he had not strolled over. Possibly a
vague idea that he had better not interfere to distract the girl's
attention from her first lessons in the refinements of existence had
kept him away from her vicinity.
He didn't even know that he had missed her; he knew only that
for some occult reason or other he had felt rather lonely lately.
He painted away steadily, pausing to relight his pipe now and
then, and all the while Ariadne, never stirring, stared persistently
across the landscape, neglecting her uncleansed whisker.
Suddenly, with a little mew of recognition and greeting, she
trotted forward through the grass; and the next moment two soft
hands fell lightly upon Warner's shoulders from behind.
"Philippa!" he exclaimed, enchanted.
"Oh, Jim!" she cried joyously, abandoning both hands to him as
he sprang to his feet and faced her.
 She was so eager, so pretty in her unfeigned delight, as though
it had been four years instead of four days since they had seen each
other; and he seemed to feel something of this, also, for he held her
hands closely and laughed without any apparent reason for mirth—
unless the sheer contentment of contact and possession be a
reason.
"Are you well and happy, Philippa?"
"Yes, I am happy enough up there. But, oh, how dreadfully I
have missed you, Jim—may I call you Jim?—I do to myself——"
"Of course!"
"I think of you that way—so it came very naturally to my lips—if
you really don't mind? And besides, I am so happy to be with you....
Peggy Brooks and I were looking over maps in the library—you
know, the Petit Journal says that the Prussians are firing enormous
shells into Liége—and so Peggy and I were down on our knees over
the maps of Belgium. Oh, dear! You know, it isn't so very far from us
here if you take a ruler and measure by scale.... And it seemed to
sober us both—we had been laughing, I don't remember exactly
what about—but studying the map made us both serious, and Peggy
went upstairs to talk it over with the Countess, and I felt that I
couldn't stand being away from you for a single minute longer!"
"You dear child!"
"So I asked Peggy to ask Madame de Moidrey if I might pay you
a little visit, and she said, 'Of course.' So I came as fast as I could
——" She laughed and made a sweeping gesture with both arms
outflung: "And here I am! Are you contented?"
She stooped and stroked Ariadne, looking up to smile at him.
 "Careful of her whisker; there is blue paint on it," he warned
Philippa; but the girl wiped off the ultramarine with a green leaf and
took the cat to her heart, covering her with caresses and murmuring
endearments.
"Jim, dear, what do you think?" she asked presently.
"About what?"
"About the war?"
He said gravely:
"I don't quite understand how those magnificent Belgian forts
are being knocked to pieces—if what the paper says is true. I
supposed them to be among the strongest fortifications in the
world."
"Madame de Moidrey says they are. Her husband, the late
Count Victor, was an artillery officer. And she told Peggy and me that
the Count de Moidrey had always said they were the very strongest
forts in the world."
"Something's gone wrong; that is evident," said Warner. "But
not with you, Philippa," he added, smiling at her. "I never saw you
looking as well; and that's a tremendously fetching frock you're
wearing."
It was a white outing gown of serge, and the girl wore white
stockings and tennis shoes, and a soft white hat—a boyish headgear
which became her enchantingly.
"Peggy gave it to me," she said. "It is very American, isn't it?"
"It's adorable on you. Do you like Peggy Brooks?"
"Yes."
"And Madame de Moidrey?"
"Yes, I do—rather."
 "Not entirely?"
"Jim——"
"What?"
"Yes, I—yes, I do like her.... But I don't do much to earn my
wages. And that troubles me."
"Your salary?"
Philippa laughed:
"Wages, salary—what does it matter what you call them, when
both merely mean pay for work performed.... I should like to do
something for Madame de Moidrey in return. But she has many
servants and a maid and a housekeeper. I thought I was to read to
her, write letters for her, amuse her. But she sometimes reads to me
and she and Peggy are teaching me to play tennis——" Philippa held
out one narrow foot for his inspection. "And yesterday she ordered a
horse for me, as well as for herself and her sister, and I wore one of
Peggy's riding habits—knee breeches and boots, Jim; and they set
me on a horse! That is the way I am earning my wages at the
Château des Oiseaux!"
"Why complain?" he asked, much amused.
"Because I am unable to return such favors——"
"Don't worry; whatever they do for you brings its own
recompense."
"How?"
"Has it never occurred to you that your society is agreeable,
interesting, amusing, and desirable?"
"No," she said, honestly surprised.
"Well, it is! People like you. You yourself amply recompense
anybody for anything done for you, by accepting the attentions
offered."
"Do you think of me in that way?"
He hadn't quite understood until then that he did feel that way
about her, but he felt it now so strongly that it seemed as though he
had always been of that mind.
"I've always thought so," he said. "There is never a dull moment
with you, Philippa. No wonder people seek you and like you and pet
you!"
Philippa blushed and tried to smile, then for a moment she
buried her flushed face in Ariadne's fluffy fur until her cheeks cooled.
"If," she said, "I had a home and an income, however tiny, I
should not feel at all embarrassed by courtesies from others,
because I should, in my turn, offer the best I possessed. But, Jim—a
homeless girl—with all that I have been—endured!—I don't know—
but I should feel more comfortable if I could be of some service in
return for all that these very kind Americans offer me."
She placed Ariadne on the grass, turned and looked down at the
river.
"There is my punt," she said. "Isn't it curious to remember that
you and I first became friends in that boat? It seems to have
happened very long ago, when I was a child.... You made me wash
my face; do you remember?"
"I do," he replied gayly. "You looked like a schoolgirl made up
for the part of Jezebel."
She blushed and hung her head. Presently her lowered eyes
were raised to him in a distressed, questioning way, and he came
over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
 "I never thought ill of you, Philippa—never doubted you were
anything except what you really are."
She looked up into his eyes:
"I don't know what I really am. But I am beginning to
understand that I can be whatever you desire. Also, I am beginning
to understand how generous you have been to me in your thoughts.
Both you and Mr. Halkett had every reason to think lightly of the
caissière of the Cabaret de Biribi, with her painted lips and cheeks
and her easy manners——" She shrugged. "And perhaps, but for the
grace of God and you, I should have become what I appeared to
be.... Let us sit in the punt. Shall we?"
They went down to the river together, Ariadne marching at their
heels with tail erect, and the girl stepped aboard and seated herself
in the stern which, afloat, swung in the limpid eddy among the tall,
green rushes.
When Warner also was seated, at her feet, she drew from the
pocket of her white serge jacket a letter, and, leaning over him,
opened and displayed it.
The letter was written in French on common writing paper, in a
perfectly legible but uneducated hand.

MADEMOISELLE [it began],

You are watched and your present whereabouts is known. You are
warned to keep your mouth shut. Any treachery, even any slight
indiscretion on your part, will be fully revenged by those you betray.
The wages of a traitor are death. Be advised in time. Return to
your duty while there is yet time and your present ingratitude will be
forgiven.
Make up your mind at once. There is no time to waste. What is
to happen shall happen! It is coming very fast. It is almost upon us.
The safety which you suppose that the present condition of
affairs guarantees you is but momentary. Peril threatens you; certain
punishment awaits you. Documents in possession of those whom
you threaten to betray are sufficient to condemn you now.
And more than that: we hold over you the power of life and
death; and shall hold it, no matter what happens in Ausone!
Either way we can destroy you.
Return to us, therefore; accept forgiveness while there is yet
time. You know who has caused this to be written. Therefore,
enough!
Return and find security; remain to betray us and you shall be
shot!

When Warner finished reading this outrageous missive, he looked up

into Philippa's undisturbed face, and she smiled.
"When did you receive this?" he demanded.
"It came in the noon mail yesterday."
"Of course it's from Wildresse."
"Of course," she said simply. "What do you think of it?"
"I think very little of it," he replied. "Threatened people are
good insurance risks. If he could have harmed you, he'd not have
troubled to write you about his amiable designs on you.... It's a pity
—a great pity, Philippa—that we dare not call in the police."
"If I have written, innocently, the things he says I have written
and signed, it might go hard with me if he were arrested," she said.
 "I know it. It can't be done—at any rate, it can't be done yet. If
there were anywhere you could go—any frontier that might be a
barrier of safety for you! But all Europe seems to be involved—all
neutral frontiers violated—even the Grand Duchy has become a
German thoroughfare.... Let me think it over, Philippa. I don't know
how dangerous to you that miserable rascal can become.... But
Halkett was right: as long as you are in France, it won't do to
denounce Wildresse."
"You understand, Jim, that I am not alarmed," she said gently,
watching his anxious and clouded features. "I know that. I think I
have reason to bear testimony concerning your courage——"
"I did not mean it in that way——"
"I understand, dear. Those who amount to anything never have
to say so. I know you are not afraid.... Shall I keep that letter for
you?"
She handed it to him. He pocketed it and sat for a while in
silence, his brooding eyes on the blue distance.
Finally, with an effort, his face cleared, and he said cheerfully:
"It is the strangeness and unreality of these last few days which
depresses everybody. As a matter of fact, the war has lent a certain
almost dignified terror to the attitude and the petty operations of a
very vile and squalid band of malefactors in a small, provincial town.
"These fellows are nothing but cheap dealers in blackmail; and
the last thing they'd do would be to invoke the law, of which they
stand in logical and perpetual fear.
"No, no! All this hint of political and military vengeance—all this
innuendo concerning a squad of execution, is utter rot.
 "If they've dabbled in the bartering of military information,
they'll keep clear of anything resembling military authority. No; I'm
not worried on that point.... But I think, if Madame de Moidrey cares
to ask me, that I should like to be a guest at the Château des
Oiseaux for the next few days."
"Jim!" she exclaimed, radiant.
"Do you want me?" he asked, pretending astonishment.

And so it happened that after luncheon Warner locked up his room

and studio in the pretty hostelry of the Golden Peach, gave orders
for his trunk to be sent to the Château, and started across the fields
toward the wooded heights, from whence had come over the
telephone an amused voice inviting him to be the guest of the
Countess de Moidrey.
When he arrived, Madame de Moidrey was sewing alone on the
southern terrace, and she looked up laughingly and extended her
hand.
"So you're in the web at last," she said. "I predicted it, didn't I?"
"Nonsense, Ethra. I came because Philippa has received a
threatening letter from that scoundrel, Wildresse."
"I know. The child has told me. Is it worth worrying over?"
"Not at all," said Warmer contemptuously. "That sort of thing is
the last resort of a badly frightened coward. Only I thought,
considering the general uncertainty, that perhaps you and Peggy
might not be displeased to have a rather muscular man in the
house."
"As a matter of fact, Jim, I had thought of asking you. Really, I
had. Only—" she laughed—"I was afraid you might think I was
encouraging you in something else——"
"See here, Ethra! You don't honestly suppose that there is
anything sentimental in my relations with Philippa, do you?"
"Isn't there?"
"No," he said impatiently.
Madame de Moidrey resumed her sewing, the smile still edging
her pleasant lips:
"She is very young yet, in many things; all the enchanting
candor and sweetness of a child are hers still, together with a poise
and quiet dignity almost bewildering at moments.... Jim, your little,
nameless protégée is simply fascinating!"
He spoke quietly:
"I'm only too thankful you find her so."
"I do. Philippa is adorable. And nobody can make me believe
that there is not good blood there. Why, speaking merely of
externals, every feature, every contour, every delicate line of her
body is labeled 'race.' There is never any accident in such a result of
breeding. In mind and body the child has bred true to her race and
stock—that is absurdly plain and perfectly evident to anybody who
looks at her, sees her move, hears her voice, and follows the natural
workings of her mind."
"Yes," said Warner, "Halkett and I decided that she had been
born to fine linen and fine thoughts. Who in the world can the child
be, Ethra?"
Madame de Moidrey shook her head over her sewing:
"I've found myself wondering again and again what the tragedy
could have been. The man, Wildresse, may have lied to her. If some
day he could be forced to tell what he knows——"
 "I have thought of that.... I don't know, Ethra.... Sometimes it is
better to leave a child in untroubled ignorance. What do you think?"
"Perhaps.... But, Jim, there is no peasant ancestry in that child,
I am sure, whatever else there may be."
"Just rascally aristocracy?"
The Countess de Moidrey laughed. She had married for love;
she could afford to.
"I am Yankee enough," she said, "to be sensitive to that subtle
and indescribable something which always characterizes the old
French aristocracy. One is always aware of it; it is never absent; it
clings always as the perfume clings to an ancient cabinet of
sandalwood and ivory.
"And, Jim, it seems to me that it clings, faintly, to the child
Philippa.... It's an odd thing to say. Perhaps if I had been born to the
title, I might not have detected it. What is familiar from birth is
rarely noticed. But my unspoiled, nervous, and Yankee nose seems
to detect it in this young girl.... And my Yankee nose, being born
republican, is a very, very keen one, and makes exceedingly few
mistakes."
"You intend, then, to keep her as a companion for the present?"
"If she will stay. I don't quite know whether she wants to. I
don't entirely understand her. She does not seem unhappy; she is
sweet, considerate, agreeable, and perfectly willing to do anything
asked of her. She is never exacting; she asks nothing even of the
servants. It's her attitude toward them which shows her quality.
They feel it—they all are aware of it. My maid adores her and is
forever hanging around to aid her in a hundred little offices, which