to return. A priest was out of the question. There
was no one but Colonel Belmont. Magdalena knew nothing of his private
life: not a whisper had reached her secluded ears; but she doubted if
religion were his strong point. But he had always been kind, and she
knew him to be clever. It took her a week to make up her mind to speak
to him and to decide what to say; but when her decision was finally
reached, she walked through the connecting gardens one evening with firm
tread and set lips.

She entered the house by a side door and went to the library, where she
knew Colonel Belmont smoked his after-dinner cigar when at home. A
cordial voice answered her knock. When she entered he rose and came
forward with the graceful hospitality which never failed him in the
moments of his liveliest possession, and with the acute interest which
anything feminine and young never failed to inspire.

"Well, honey!" he exclaimed, kissing her warmly and handing her to a
chair; "you might have done this before. I'm such a lonely childless old
widower."

"Oh!" said Magdalena, with contrition; "I never thought you'd care to
see me." She could not know that he seldom permitted himself to be
alone.

"Well, now you know it, you'll come oftener, won't you? Have you heard
from my baby lately? I had a letter a yard long this morning. She can
write!"

"I had one too." She hesitated a moment, then determined to speak at
once. She could not hold this nor any man's attention in ordinary
conversation, and she wanted to finish before she wearied him.

"Uncle Jack," she said, "I've come to see you about something in
particular. I know so few people, or I wouldn't bore you--"

"Don't you talk about boring me, honey,--you! Why, your old Uncle Jack
would do anything for you."

A light sprang into Magdalena's eyes. Colonel Belmont forgot for the
moment that she was not beautiful, and warmed to interest at once. Few
people had ever withstood Jack Belmont's magnetism, and Magdalena found
it easy to speak.

"It is this," she said. "I have been reading books lately that have
taken my religion from me; it has gone utterly. I want to ask you what I
shall do,--if there is anything to take its place. I--I--feel as if I
could not get along without something."

Colonel Belmont made a faint exclamation and wheeled about, staring at
the fire. His first impulse was to laugh, so ludicrous was the idea that
anyone should come to him for spiritual advice; his secon