ordained, sister, and it causeth
me grief to know that this revelation, which I told thee many years
since, is yet to be received of thee as a grievous thing,
nevertheless--"

"Nevertheless," she repeated in a mocking tone, as one weary of
foolishness, "what nevertheless? Let us talk on some better subject, Mr.
Smith, and after this be kind enough to have no dreams or revelations
about me. Dream of your Church, if you like. I cannot hinder your
people's credulity, and I hope that you will continue, as you have
begun, to lead them in the main by righteous paths. And have your dreams
and visions about yourself, if you must, for I sometimes think that you
cannot be much madder than you are now, but be kind enough to leave me
out of them, for I am going away."

She had now made him very angry. He was standing with flushed face,
quivering with uncertain impulses of rising wrath, yet he still
struggled for self-control.

"Sister Susannah Halsey, it is not meet that you should make a mock of
that which is sacred"--he gave a gasp here of stifled anger, and there
was a perceptible note of wounded affection beside the louder one of
offended vanity--"of that which is above all sacred," he stuttered, "it
is not meet--meet--to mock--to mock." The veins on his forehead were
standing out and growing purple.

She had often heard of Joseph Smith's power of rage, before which all
the Saints quailed. She saw it now for the first time.

She rose up, trying now a tone of gentle severity. "I spoke lightly
because your words appeared to me childish and silly, but the more in
earnest you were, Mr. Smith, the more need there is you should have done
with a thought that could lead to no good. I am no elect lady. Why do
you deceive yourself? I have told you before that I do not even believe
in your religion."

As she spoke she became more and more amazed at the thought of what his
self-deception must have been, for in his ever-shifting mind he knew her
infidelity perfectly, and yet had persuaded himself that she would
accept some fantastic position as prophetess-in-chief.

"How mad you are," she said pityingly, "to know a thing and yet to
pretend to yourself you do not know it. Go and get your supper, Mr.
Smith. Emma will be waiting to give it to you. And when you have
thought quietly over what I have said, you are quite clever enough to
see that my way of looking at it is more sensible than yours."

She had perhaps supposed that the me