Not long after the departure of Maria, Neil was one morning sorting and auditing some papers regarding the affairs of Madame Jacobus. Suddenly the thought of Agnes Bradley came to him with such intense clarity and sweetness that his hands dropped the paper they held; he remained motionless, and in that pause had a mental vision of the girl, while her sweet voice filled the chambers of his spiritual ears with melody. As he sat still, seeing and listening, a faint, dreamy smile brightened his face, and Madame softly opening the door, stood a moment and looked at him. Then advancing, the sound of her rustling silk garments brought Neil out of his happy trance, and he turned toward her. "Dreaming of St. Agnes?" she asked, and he answered, "I believe I was Madame." "Sometimes dreams come true," she continued. "Can you go to Philadelphia for me? Here is an offer from Gouverneur Morris for my property on Market Street. He proposes to turn the first floor into storage room. At present it is a rather handsome residence, and I am not sure the price he offers will warrant me making the change." Neil was "ready to leave at any time," he said, and Madame added, "Then go at once. If it is a good offer, it will not wait on our leisure." He began to lock away the papers under his hands, and Madame watched him with a pleasant smile. As he rose she asked, "Have you heard anything yet from Miss Bradley?" "Not a word." "Do you know where she is?" "I have not the least idea. I think the Hurds know, but they will not tell me." "I will tell you then. Agnes is in Philadelphia." "Madame! Madame! I----" "I am sure of it. On this slip of paper you will find her address. She boards with a Quaker family called Wakefield--a mother and four daughters; the father and brothers are with the American army. I suppose you can leave to-day?" "In two hours I will be on the road. I need but a change of clothing and a good horse." "The horse is waiting you in my stables. Choose which animal you wish, and have it saddled: and better mount here; you can ride to Semple house quicker than you can walk." Neil's face spoke his thanks. He waited for no explanations, he was going to see Agnes; Madame had given him her address, it was not worth while asking how she had procured it. But as he left the room he lifted Madame's hand and kissed it, and in that act imparted so much of his feeling and his gratitude that there was no necessity for words. "Poor fellow!" sighed Madame, and then she walked to the window and looked sadly into Broadway. "Soldiers instead of citizens," she murmured, "war horses instead of wagon horses; that screaming fife! that braying, blustering drum! Oh, how I wish the kings of earth would fight their own battles! Wouldn't the duello between George of England and George of America be worth seeing? Lord! I would give ten years of my life for the sight."