“Of the people it is undoubtedly true,” she said.  There was a reservation in her mind concerning certain leaders in the Church, but she did not make it in words.

He read on:  “’With a shrewd head like that of the prophet to direct, with a spiritual power like his to say “do” and it is done, what wonder that this thrifty and virtuous people should have made Nauvoo that which its name denotes—­the Beautiful City, the home of peace and joy.’”

He laid down the newspaper upon the marble-topped table, his large hand outspread upon it.  “My sister, why do you wish to leave this beautiful city?  It is a place where each may have home and part and lot in its delights, but to you all its wealth and power and beauty is offered.  Did I not say unto you, when as a beautiful damsel you gave up home and kindred for the sake of the Church, that you should be as a queen among its elect women, riding as in a carriage drawn by white horses and receiving the elect from among the nations?”

The recollection of the prophecy which he had delivered concerning her upon the desolate autumn road at Fayette brought with it another recollection—­that of her parting with Ephraim the same morning—­so vividly that her eyes filled with tears.  Yet she marvelled too, with inquisitive recognition of the miracle, that the words of the visionary, then a beggar, should have been so nearly fulfilled.

“It is quite true, Mr. Smith, and very marvellous that what you promised me should almost be literally fulfilled.  We have come to it, as you also foretold, by a path most terrible, and now we arrive at the consummation.  We live in a palace, and at its doors pilgrims from England and all parts of Europe are arriving every day, and the richest of gowns, the grandest of carriages, and the whitest of horses are truly at my disposal.  But there is one discrepancy between your vision and the fact—­I will not wear the silk robes, nor welcome the pilgrims with the assurance that they have here reached the City of God.  I will not because I cannot.  I refuse to accept from the hand of God such paltry things as money and display, or even the honest affluence of our people, as compensation for the fire and blood through which we have waded.  If there be a God who is the shepherd of those who seek him, this is not the sort of table that he spreads, this is not the cup which he causes to run over”—­she had begun lightly, but her voice became more earnest.  “Mr. Smith, we have walked through the shadow of death together; if you would be exalted in the presence of your enemies, have done with your childish delight in such toys.”

Smith moved uneasily on his velvet-covered chair, and it, being of a rather cheap sort, creaked under his bulk.

“What says it in the end of the Book of Job, Sister Halsey? and what compensation did the Lord give for the sore temptations with which he had allowed the devil to tempt his servant?  As I read, it was fourteen thousand sheep and six thousand camels, and—­”