“Well, he never did overeat himself, that I knew of,” said the Bishop.  “Not eating ain’t any sign with him.  Now it would be with me.  I never believed in fasting the flesh.  The Spirit of the Lord ain’t ever so close to me as after I’ve had a good meal of victuals,—­meat and potatoes and plenty of good sop and a couple of pieces of pie.  Then I can unbutton my vest and jest set and set and hear the promptings of the Lord God of Hosts.  I know some men ain’t that way, but then’s the time when I beautify my inheritance in Zion the purtiest.  And I’m mighty glad Brother Joel can turn out to-morrow.  Of course you heard the news?”

“What news, Brother Seth?”

“Brother Brigham gets here at eleven o’clock from New Harmony.”

“Brother Brigham coming?”

“We’re getting the bowery ready down in the square tonight so’s to have services out of doors.”

“He’s coming to-morrow?” The words came from both Prudence and her father.

“Of course he’s coming.  Ben Hadley brought word over.  They’ll have a turkey dinner at Beil Wardle’s house and then services at two.”

The flushed little man with the revelation felt himself grow suddenly cold.  He had thought it would be easy to launch his new truth in Amalon and let the news be carried to Brigham.  To get up in the very presence of him, in the full gaze of those cold blue eyes, was another matter.

“But it’s early for him.  He doesn’t usually come until after Conference, after it’s got cooler.”

The Bishop took on the air of a man who does not care to tell quite all that he knows.

“Yes; I suspicion some one’s been sending tales to him about a certain young woman’s carryings on down here.”

He looked sharply at Prudence, who looked at the ground and felt grateful for the dusk.  Follett looked hard at them both and was plainly interested.  The Bishop spoke again.

“I ain’t got no license to say so, but having done that young woman proud by engaging himself to marry her, he might ‘a’ got annoyed if any one had ‘a’ told him she was being waited on by a handsome young Gentile, gallivantin’ off to canons day after day—­holding hands, too, more than once.  Oh, I ain’t saying anything.  Young blood is young blood; mine ain’t always been old, and I never blamed the young, but, of course, the needs of the Kingdom is a different matter.  Well, I’ll have to be getting along now.  We’re going to put up some of the people at our house, and I’ve got to fix to bed mother down in the wagon-box again, I reckon.  I’ll say you’ll be with us to-morrow, then, Brother Joel?”

The little bent man’s voice had lost much of its life.

“Yes, Brother Seth, if I’m able.”

“Well, I hope you are.”  He arose and looked at the sky.  “Looks as if we might have some falling weather.  They say it’s been moisting quite a bit up Cedar way.  Well,—­good night, all!”