It is no doubt a wise provision of nature that the cold of winter closes the activity in field and garden, thus allowing time for study by the home fire.  Dorian Trent’s library, having been greatly enlarged, now became to him a source of much pleasure and profit.  Books which he never dreamed of possessing were now on his shelves.  In some people’s opinion, he was too well satisfied to remain in his cosy room and bury himself in his books; but his mother found no fault.  She was always welcome to come and go; and in fact, much of the time he sat with her by the kitchen fire, reading aloud and discussing with her the contents of his book.

Dorian found, as Uncle Zed had, wonderful arguments for the truth of the gospel in Orson and Parley P. Pratt’s works.  In looking through the “Journal of Discourses,” he found markings by many of the sermons, especially by those of Brigham Young.  Dorian always read the passages thus indicated, for he liked to realize that he was following the former owner of the book even in his thinking.  The early volumes of the “Millennial Star” contained some interesting reading.  Very likely, the doctrinal articles of these first elders were no better than those of more recent writers, but their plain bluntness and their very age seemed to give them charm.

By his reading that winter Dorian obtained an enlarged view of his religion.  It gave him vision to see and to comprehend better the whole and thus to more fully understand the details.  Besides, he was laying a broad and firm foundation for his faith in God and the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, a faith which would stand him well in need when he came to delve into a faithless and a Godless science.

Not that Dorian became a hermit.  He took an active part in the Greenstreet ward organizations.  He was secretary of the Mutual, always attended Sunday School, and usually went to the ward dances.  As he became older he overcame some of his shyness with girls; and as prosperity came to him, he could dress better and have his mass of rusty-red hair more frequently trimmed by the city barber.  More than one of the discerning Greenstreet girls laid their caps for the big, handsome young fellow.

And Dorian’s thoughts, we must know, were not all the time occupied with the philosophy of Orson Pratt.  He was a very natural young man, and there were some very charming girls in Greenstreet.  When, arrayed in their Sunday best, they sat in the ward choir, he, not being a member of the choir, could look at them to his heart’s content, first at one and then at another along the double row.  Carlia Duke usually sat on the front row where he could see her clearly and compare her with the others—­and she did not suffer by the comparison.