It was on Saturday morning that he announced this decision to Elsie, adding that they would remain where they were over the Sabbath, and leave for New York early Monday morning.

Elsie sighed at the thought of giving up for so long a time all hope of seeing Miss Rose, and looked very sober for a little while, though she said nothing.

“Well, I believe we have seen all the sights in this city of Brotherly Love, so what shall we do with ourselves to-day?” her father asked gayly, as he drew her towards him, and playfully patted her cheek.

“I should like to go back to the Academy of Fine Arts, if you will take me, papa; there are several pictures there which I want very much to see again.”

“Then get your bonnet, my pet, and we will go at once,” he said; and Elsie hastened to do his bidding.

There were very few other visitors in the Academy when Mr. Dinsmore and his little girl entered.  They spent several hours there, almost too much absorbed in studying the different paintings to notice who were coming or going, or what might be passing about them.  They themselves, however, were by no means unobserved, and more than once the remark might have been heard from some one whose eyes were turned in that direction, “What a very fine-looking gentleman!” or, “What a lovely little girl!”

One young lady and gentleman watched them for some time.

“What a very handsome and distinguished-looking man he is,” remarked the lady in an undertone, “His face looks familiar, too, and yet I surely cannot have met him before.”

“Yes, he is a fine, gentlemanly looking fellow,” replied her companion in the same low tone, “but it is the little girl that attracts my attention.  She is perfectly lovely! his sister, I presume.  There, Rose, now you can see her face,” he added, as at that moment Elsie turned toward them.

“Oh, it is a dear little face!  But can it be? no, surely it is impossible! yes, yes, it is, my own little Elsie!”

For at that instant their eyes met, and uttering a joyful exclamation, the little girl darted across the room, and threw herself into the lady’s arms, crying, “Oh, Miss Rose! dear, dear Miss Rose, how glad I am!”

“Elsie! darling! why, where did you come from?” and Rose’s arms were clasped about the little girl’s waist, and she was showering kisses upon the sweet little face.

“I did not even know you were in the North,” she said presently, releasing her from her embrace, but still keeping fast hold of her hand, and looking down lovingly into her face.  “When did you come? and who is with you? but I need scarcely ask, for it must be your papa, of course.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Elsie, looking round, “there he is, and see! he is coming toward us.  Papa, this is Miss Rose.”

Rose held out her hand with one of her sweetest smiles.  “I am very glad to see you, Mr. Dinsmore, especially as you have brought my dear little friend with you.  This is my brother Edward,” she added, turning to her companion.  “Mr. Dinsmore, Edward, and little Elsie, of whom you have so often heard me speak.”