this, then, dear child, and whenever you wish to have a
friend's advice or assistance, come to me."

To this Mimi listened with streaming eyes; and as the priest ended,
she pressed his hand gratefully, and uttered some unintelligible
words. His offer had come to her like balm. It did not seem now as
though she was so desolate, for she had learned already to love the
good priest with something of a daughter's feelings, and to trust in
him profoundly.

Laborde was buried in the little churchyard of Grand Pre; and now,
in addition to the pangs of bereavement, Mimi began to feel other
cares about her future. What was she to do? Could she go back to
France? That was her only present course. But how? She could not go
in the Aigle, for that frigate had left the day after her arrival,
not having any time to spare. There was no other way of going to
France now, except by going first to Louisbourg, and taking a ship
from that place. But she was not left very long in suspense, for, two
or three days after her father's burial, the Count de Cazeneau came
to see her.

"I hope," he began, "that it is not necessary for me to say to you
how deeply I sympathize with you in your bereavement, for I myself
have my own bereavement to mourn over--the loss of my best, my only
friend, the friend of a lifetime, the high-minded, the noble Laborde.
The loss to me is irrevocable, and never can I hope to find any mere
friend who may fill his place. We were always inseparable. We were
congenial in taste and in spirit. My coming to America was largely
due to his unfortunate resolve to come here, a resolve which I always
combated to the best of my ability, and over which you and I must now
mourn. But regrets are useless, and it remains for both of us to see
about the future."

This somewhat formal opening was quite characteristic of Cazeneau,
who, being of a distant, reserved nature, very seldom allowed himself
to unbend; and, though he threw as much softness into his voice and
manner as he was capable of using, yet Mimi felt repelled, and
dreaded what might be coming.

"When we were first picked up by the Aigle," he continued, "it was in
my power either to go direct to Louisbourg, or to come here, and then
go on by land. I chose to come here, for two reasons; first, because
I hoped that my dear friend would be benefited by reaching the land
as soon as possible, and I thought that the pure, fresh air, and
genial climate, and beautiful scenery of