The Press., 1892-10-27
Sister Ellen with familiar, tender air
 saw painful bushes redden the lady's

Sister Ellen with familiar, tender air saw painful blushes redden the lady's cheeks.
 Brent noticed the pain and the blush. He looked away from the group toward the blue sierra far away to the south: a hard expression came into his face, such as had not seen there since the old days of his battling with Swerger.
 Miss Clitheroe at once grew coli and stern. Nothing could be more distant than her manner toward the saint. She treated him as highbred woman can treat scrub-sounding with every ges- ture and measuring with every word the ineffaceable gulf between them. Yet she was thoroughly civil as hostess. She even seemed to fight against herself to be friendly. But it was clear to by stander that she loathed the apostle. That she was not charmed with his so- ciety even his coarse nature could not fail to discover Anywhere else the scene would have been comic. Here he had the power. No escape; no refuge. That thrust all comedy out of the drama and left only very hateful tragedy. Still it was cruel sem blance of comedy over 8 tragic uhderplot, to see the Mormon's cringing approaches, and that exquisite creatures calm rebuffs. Sizzum felt himself pinned in his proper place, and writhed there, with an evil lock, that said he was noting all and treasEring all against his day of vengeance.
 And the poor, feeble old father-how all his geniality was blighted and with cred away. He was no more the master of reyels at festival, but the ruined man, with haili4f in disguise at his dinner table. Querulous tones 1nurnured in his voice. The decayed gentleman disappeared; the hapless fanatic took his place. Phrases of cant, and the peculiar Mormon slang and profanity, gave tho color to his conversation. He appealed to Sizzum constantly. He was at once the bigoted disciple and the cowad slave. Toward his daughter his manner was sometimes timorously pleading, some times almost surly. Why could she not repress her disgust at the holy man, at least in the presence of strangers? That seemed to be his feeling; and he strove to withdraw attention from her by an eager, trepidating attempt to please his master. In short, the vulgar, hard headed knave had this weak, lost gentle man thoroughly in his power. MT. Clitheroe was like a lamb whom the shepherd intends first to shear close, then to worry to death with CUTS, and at last to cut up into keebaubs.
 Brent and kept aloof as much as we might. We should only have insulted the chosen vessel and so injured our friends.
 With sunset Elder Sizzum, after some oily vulgarisms of compliment to the lady, walked off on camp duty.
 We also rose to take our leave. We must look after our horses.
 MT. Clitheroe's old manner returned the instant his spiritual guide left us.
 "Pray come and see us again this even- ing, gentlemen" said he.
 'sWe will, certainly" said Brent, look ing toward Miss Clitheroe for her invi- tation.
 It did not come.
 "Oh, yes!' said MT. Clitheroe, inter preting Brent's look; 'my daughter will be charmed to see you. To tell the truth, our brethren in the camp are worthy peo pie; we sympathize deeply in the faith; but they are not altogether in manners or education quite such as we have been sometimes accustomed to. It is one of the infamous wrongs of our English sys- tems of caste that it separates brother men, manners, language, thought and life. We have as yet been able to have little except religious communion with our fellow travellers toward the Promised Land-except, of course, with Brother Sizzum, who is, as you see, quite man of society, as well as an elect apostle of 8 great cause. We are quite selfish in asking you to repeat your visit. Besides the welcome we should give youfor your selves, we welcome you also as novelty" And then he muttered half to himself, "God forgive me for speaking after the fesh!'
 Come, Wade," said my friend. And he gripped my arm almost savagely. "Until this evening then, MT. Clitheroe."
 As we moved away from the wagon, where the lady stood, so worn and sad, and yet so lovely, her poor fathers only guard and friend, we met Murker and Larrap. They were sauntering about, prying into the wagons, inspecting the