Smith had the air of some unwieldy animal trying to adapt itself to the unexpected gambols of a light one.  The first supposition was that Elvira had in some way learnt the object of his mission, so he began to declare it with a reproachful look at Susannah.  “Our sister Halsey,” he said, “does not wish you to wear jewels and beautiful clothes, and yet it is said in the Scripture that the clothing of ladies should be even of wrought gold.”

“Naughty creature,” she cried, “don’t quote the Scriptures to me.  I am not the lady you are thinking about.  I am not the lady that you come here to see.”

So intent they all were upon her and her affairs that this statement was somewhat puzzling.  The only sign that Smith gave that he gathered any sense out of the vivacious nonsense she was pleased to talk was that he precipitated his explanation.

The brother by his side was very rich; it had been foretold him in a vision of the night that when he had professed the Mormon faith a pretty wife would be his reward.  Smith had had it borne in upon his mind that Elvira was the lady designed by the vision.  “For,” said he unctuously; “the Holy Scripture saith that the solitary shall be set in families.”

Elvira laughed.  “How very amusing,” she cried.  “And into what family shall our sister Susannah be set?”

Smith frowned.  “Our sister Susannah,” he said, “is not solitary, but is surrounded by her spiritual children, to whom she imparts her own learning and goodness, to the great benefit of the Church; and I cannot but think, Sister Elvira”—­the severity in his voice was growing—­“that you are a great care to her, for she toils hard to give you even such poor raiment as you are now wearing, not wishing to accept of the bounty of the Church, while she would be an example of industry to others.”

The hard truth of this statement, combined with the commanding voice and manner he now assumed, controlled Elvira.  She stood for some minutes meekly contemplating her senile and smirking suitor.  Susannah protested and warned her, but in caprice, as sudden as it was unexpected, Elvira decided to comply with the prophet’s request without further persuasion or command.

When left alone with Susannah she only shrugged her shoulders and said, “I saw that I should lose my soul if I didn’t; the prophet was so determined.  Why should we bicker and consider, and why should I fly round and round, like a bird round the green eyes of a cat, or try to escape half a dozen times like a mouse when it is once caught, when I know from the beginning that Joe Smith will curse me if I don’t do his will?”

“You are quite mistaken.  He was not determined; he told me that he only wished to lay the matter before you and let you decide for yourself.”

Elvira let her white eyelids droop until but a narrow slit of the dark eye was visible.  “La! child,” she said.

“And you cannot seriously think that Smith’s curse, even if he were barbarous enough to denounce you, could make the slightest difference to your soul’s salvation.  You often talk that way, but you cannot seriously think it, Elvira.”