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In a wide street in Philadelphia, not far from the Assembly Rooms where such hot debates were constantly going on, stood an old-fashioned house, quaintly gabled, above the door of which hung out a sign board intimating that travellers might find rest and refreshment within.

The whole house was spotlessly clean, and its aspect was prim and sober, as was indeed that of the whole city.  Men in wide-brimmed hats and wide-skirted coats of sombre hue walked the streets, and talked earnestly together at the corners; whilst the women, for the most part, passed on their way with lowered eyes, and hoods drawn modestly over their heads, neither speaking nor being spoken to as they pursued their way.

To be sure there were exceptions.  In some quarters there were plenty of people of a different aspect and bearing; but in this wide and pleasant street, overlooked by the window of the hostelry, there were few gaily-dressed persons to be seen, but nearly all of them wore the dress and adopted the quaint speech of the Quaker community.

From this window a bright-faced girl was looking eagerly out into the street.  She wore a plain enough dress of grey homespun cloth, and a little prim cap covered her pretty hair.  Yet for all that several little rebellious curls peeped forth, surrounding her face with a tiny nimbus; and there was something dainty in the fashion of her white frilled kerchief, arranged across her dress bodice and tied behind.  She would dearly have loved to adorn herself with some knots of rose-coloured ribbon, but the rose tints in her cheek gave the touch of colour which brightened her sombre raiment, and her dancing blue eyes would have made sunshine in any place.

She had opened the window lattice and craned her head to look down the street; but at the sound of a footstep within doors she quickly drew it in again, for her mother reproved her when she found her hanging out at the window.

“What is all the stir about, mother?” she asked; “there be so many folks abroad, and they have been passing in and out of the Assembly Rooms for above an hour.  What does it all mean?  Are they baiting the Governor again?  Are they having another fight about the taxes?”

“Nay, child, I know not.  I have been in the kitchen, looking to the supper.  Thy father came in awhile back, and said we had guests arrived, and that he desired the supper to be extra good.  That is all I know.”

“Something has happened, I am sure of that!” cried the girl again, “and I would father would come and tell us what it is all about.  He always hears all the news.  Perhaps the travellers he is bringing here will know.  I may sit with you at the supper table, may I not, mother?”

“Yes, child; so your father said.  He came in with a smile upon his face.  But he was in a great haste, and has been gone ever since.  So what it all means I know not.”

Susanna—­for such was the name of the girl—­became at once interested and excited.