He walked slowly onward, and after a minute Susannah, with quickened steps, followed him, in high anger now.  “I do not believe in the revelations of Joseph Smith,” she cried.  And because he did not appear offended she spoke more rudely, catching at phrases to which she had become accustomed.  “If the salvation of my soul should depend upon it, I would rather lose it than believe.”

But when she had said these last words a little gasp came in her breath, and her heart quailed in realising the possibility of which she had spoken.  Her own angry words had diverted her attention from questioning the reasonableness of the new faith to the fearful contemplation of what might be the result of rejection.

If she quailed at her own speech, the grief of the young Quaker was more obvious.  He put up his hands as if in fear that she should add to her sin by repeating her words.  Quiet as was his demeanour, the emotional side of his nature had evidently been deeply wrought upon to-day, for when he tried to speak to reprove her, grief choked his utterance.  It was not at that time a strange thing for men under the influence of religious convictions to weep easily.  On the contrary, it was accounted by evangelists a sign of great grace; but Susannah, accustomed only to the reserve of English gentlemen and her uncle’s stern Puritan self-repression, seeing this young Quaker weep for her sake, was greatly touched.  She became possessed by an excited desire to console him.

The young man turned, weeping as he went, into a little wood that here bordered the road.  Susannah followed, full of ruth, thinking that he merely sought temporary shade.

They had proceeded under the trees a few paces when Emma Smith came up from the bank of the river to meet them.  Halsey controlled himself and spoke to Emma.

“She has refused.  For this time she has rejected the truth.”

Now to Susannah the matter for amazement was that she had come so far from home (although, it was not very far), that she had actually arrived, as it seemed, at an appointed place.  The sting that this gave to her pride was greatly eased by perceiving that she had not by this fulfilled his hopes.

Emma Smith had a pale, patient face, which was at this time made peculiarly dignified by a look of solemn excitement.  Young as she was, she turned to Susannah with a protecting motherly air.

“Perhaps next time the opportunity is offered the young lady will embrace it and save her soul.”  She spoke consolingly to Halsey, but looked at Susannah with encouraging and respectful eyes.  “You will see this young man baptized?” she asked.

Under the protection of Emma Smith, Susannah stooped under the willow boughs and found herself upon the bank of the river in the presence of Joseph Smith, his mother, and some half-dozen men.

Lucy Smith was muttering somewhat concerning a vision of angels, and the suppressed excitement of them all was manifest.  Susannah was infected by it; she was now tremulous and eager to see what was to be seen.