nsolate. She had a vague idea that the vengeance of heaven was
overtaking her for merely listening to such heresy. Over against this
was a shadowy doubt whether it might not be true, roused by Emma's
continued persistency.

"Is it any easier to believe that those things happened to folks when
the Bible was written? Don't you believe that God appeared to Moses and
Samuel and told them the very words to write down, and showed them
visions; and isn't He the same God yesterday, to-day, and for ever? It's
just what it says in the Bible shall come about in the latter days. It's
because of the great apostasy of the Church, no one really believing in
Jesus Christ, that a new prophet had to appear--that's Joseph."

"They do believe," Susannah spoke sullenly.

"Well, there's your aunt, Mis' Croom. Now she's as good as there is in
the modern Church, isn't she? She's doing all she can to save her soul.
She can't do it, for she don't believe. Why the Lord, He said that signs
and wonders should follow them that believe. Have they any signs and
wonders up at your place? And He said that believers must forsake all,
houses and lands and all; what have your people forsook? And as to its
being hard to believe about Joseph--you just take the things in the
Bible, Elisha and the bears, for instance, and Paul bringing back Dorcas
to life, and just think how hard they'd be to believe if you heard they
happened yesterday, next door to you. And with God all times and places
is the same. Souls is only saved by believing; the Lord says so, and
accepting the things of faith to come to pass, and being baptized and
giving up all and following; and it's an awful thing to lose one's
soul."

At this reiteration of the doctrine of the soul as a thing apart from
the development of reason and character, Susannah rose, ready to cry
with anger. Her aunt's agitation on the subject had left a sore to which
the gentlest touch was pain.

"I don't believe it," she cried. "I don't believe God wants us to do
anything except just good. That's what _my_ father told me. I'm going
home. I don't care how it rains."

Emma did not hear her. Over her pale young face had come the peculiar
expression of alert and loving listening. She had detected the sound of
a footstep which Susannah now heard coming heavily near.

A large man of about twenty-five years of age entered from the bluster
of the storm. As Susannah was trying to push out past him into its fury,
he pause