had baptised
newcomers in the icy floods of the April stream. He had advised as to
the choice of lands and their manner of cultivation, as to the size and
form of houses. He had visited the sick and planned merry-makings for
the young. In addition to all this, even while preparing for the long
journey into an unknown region, he was busy learning three languages,
and was laying plans, not only for missionary campaigns that were to
spread over the whole earth, but for a new translation of the Old
Testament. If the better clothes that he had begun to wear sat somewhat
pompously upon him, if his manners now sometimes indicated an attempt
not only to be, but to appear, a prophet, such small affectations sank
out of sight in the light of such extraordinary ability.

After Smith and Sydney Rigdon had started westward, Susannah went over
to console Emma. The prophet's wife was at that time living in a
building of which the front part was the general store whence the
material needs of the growing church were as far as possible provided.
Susannah passed through between bales of cloths, boxes, and barrels of
provisions. It was dusk; a young man who served in the store carried a
candle before her, and the odd-shaped piles of merchandise threw strange
moving shadows upon the low beams of the roof and walls. The young man
held the candle to light the way up a straight staircase. "Mis' Smith,"
he shouted, "here's Mis' Halsey come to see you."

At the top of the staircase Susannah was met by a cooing, creeping baby,
who beat with its little fist upon a wicket gate fencing off the stair.

"It was the last thing he did before setting out, to nail that gate
together and fasten it up with his own hands, so as I wouldn't need
always to be running after the young one, lest he should fall down the
stair." It was Emma Smith who spoke; she emerged dishevelled and tearful
from an upper room. "When he has so much to think about and all, and
Elder Rigdon waiting for him at the office till he'd finished. Mr.
Smith, he's always so kind, and he knew as that would be the thing as
would give me the most help of anything."

Emma subsided again into tears--tears that were the more touching to
Susannah because Emma was not like most women; she seldom wept.

"I don't mean to give way," Emma continued, "but if it was your husband
as had gone, you'd know how it was, and it's the first time I've ever
been separate from him so long."

Susannah sat down w