man, kept on her
course toward Quebec?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember the name of the boat?"

"The _Maid of the North_."

"The _Maid of the North_!"

Elinor took no notice of this exclamation of surprise. In a purely
amiable manner she was becoming tired.

"The _Maid of the North_, did you say?"

"Yes."

"But, my child, when was that? When were you left here?"

With a sigh of weariness, she replied: "A year ago this month, on the
ninth of June."

"The ninth of June," he repeated, in a lower tone, more to himself than
to her. "Why--then, she was lost between this point and Quebec."

"Lost?"

And Elinor looked up at him with startled eyes.

"Yes." Then he added: "But I see that you could not have known it."

"Do you mean the _Maid of the North_ never reached Quebec?"

"Nothing has been heard of her since the eighth of last June. On that
day she was spoken by another steamer near the Magdalen Islands."

Elinor had risen from her chair, and stood leaning against the table.
"That is horrible! horrible! It does not seem possible! What do they
think became of her?"

"Nobody knows. There are several theories, but nothing is certain. You
are probably the only survivor."

"But were there no traces of her,--no wreckage, nothing to give a clew?"

"Nothing."

With drooping head and a hand across her eyes, she murmured: "Poor
Louise! And my uncle--and Father Burke!" And she sank back into her
chair.

The Archbishop took a step nearer. "Did you know Father Burke?"

"He was a dear friend."

At this reply the eyebrows of the holy man were elevated. A light broke
in upon him. With a manner more sympathetic than heretofore--and less
patronizing--he said gently:

"Father Burke was a dear friend of mine, also,--an irreparable loss to
the Church and to all who knew him. Is it possible you are the young
lady whom he held in such high esteem and affection, and of whom he
wrote to me? Were you in his spiritual charge, with thoughts of a
convent?"

She nodded.

Into his face came a look of joy. Then, in a voice brimming over with
tenderness and paternal sympathy:

"I cannot express my pleasure, my heartfelt gratitude, that you have
been spared us. Of your exalted character and of your holy aspirations
our dear friend spoke repeatedly. And now, in your hour of affliction,
it will be not only the duty, but the joy and privilege of our Holy
Church to serve you as counsellor and guide."

As the girl made no reply,