“Now be careful,” admonished the mother, “don’t muss his clothes up like that.  Today is his first public appearance, you know.”

“Your coming out, eh?” he asked of the baby.  “Well, we’ll have to be good, won’t we.”

This was in the front room.  Thomas Strong sat, hat in hand, ready, while he smiled at the bear-like antics of the happy father with his first baby.  Then when the mother came in with hat on, the old man arose slowly, went to the organ and looked at a photograph of Chester Lawrence, which had recently been framed and now held the place of honor on the organ.  The Bishop, seeing the movement, lifted the baby to the picture.

“I believe there is a resemblance,” he remarked.  The old man only smiled.

Hugh Elston now drove up to the door.  The young mother climbed into the front seat, and then was given the baby.  Grandpa Elston took a back seat by Thomas Strong, while the Bishop sat by his wife to drive.  Then they were off.

“Did I tell you,” said Mr. Strong to his companion, “that I got a letter from my brother last evening?”

“No; you did not.”

“Well, he’s been recently to London and visiting with Elder Malby.  It seems he can’t keep away from that man, and I must say Elder Malby is a wonder.  Such a spirit he has with him—­”

“The missionary spirit, Brother Strong—­the spirit of the Lord.”

“Yes, yes,” mused the man—­“strange—­and he but a hard-working farmer—­I wouldn’t be surprised if Brother Gilbert came to America and out west here.  He intimated as much in his letter.  Poor brother, he also has suffered.”

“If he comes, give him our invitation to visit with us.”

“Thank you, that I shall.”

“Perhaps he will accompany Elder Malby when he is released.”

“Invite them both,” said the other.  “We shall all like to see them very much.”

There was a brief silence, as the horses trotted along.  Thomas Strong’s gaze roved across the Flat to the mountains, then rested again on his companion.  Presently, he said: 

“Brother Elston, the other day you were speaking of vicarious work for the dead, ‘temple work’ you called it.  I understand the doctrine of baptism for the dead, but some other things are not quite plain—­for instance, having the dead married, made husband and wife, which they would have been had they lived and had the chance—­well, you understand.”

Yes; Hugh Elston understood, and made his explanations to his companion, who listened attentively and exclaimed at its close: 

“I am so glad—­for Chester’s and Lucy’s sake—­so glad!”

In good time they arrived at the meeting house.  The Bishop busied himself with the business before him.  The good people of the ward came in, exchanged the usual greetings, then found seats.  There were flowers on the sacrament table as usual, and the meeting house looked sweet and clean—­a fit place in which to worship the Lord.