^fS" 
 
Elder Northfield's Home; 
 
 OR, 
 
 Sacrificed on the Mormon Altar. 
 
 A STORY OF 
 
 THE BLIGHTING CURSE OF POLYGAMY. 
 
 BY 
 
 A. JENNIE BARTLETT. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 21 PARK PLACE. 
 1882. 
 
Copyright, 1882, by 
 A. J, SWITZER. 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 Sad as the scenes depicted by the succeeding pages may seem, revolting 
 though they appear to a right-minded community, savoring as they do ot 
 barbarism and superstition, and displaying tyranny and oppression which 
 our so-called free America should blush to tolerate, yet not one representa- 
 tion of the workings of Mornionism and Polygamy has here been given 
 "which has not its parallel in actual life in Utah at the present day. 
 
 The pollution of the marriage relation, the wife literally giving away 
 (being forced to do so) other so-called wives to her husband, the invasion of 
 her home-happiness by those fiendish attributes — hate and jealousy — the 
 neglect and often cruelty woman must suffer from him who should love, 
 cherish and honor her, by the forcing of young and innocent girls into re- 
 pulsive matrimonial alliances — these are not vagaries of fancy, portrayed to 
 excite the emotion of sensation-loving minds, but facts, which exist in defi- 
 ance of our laws to the contrary in our otherwise glorious republic. 
 
 This horrible system is said to have had its origin with Joseph Smith, the 
 great founder of Mormonism, and Avas introduced by him as a religious in- 
 stitution, to screen his own wrong-doing from public censure. It was claimed 
 by him to be the direct revelation from God, and as founders of new religions 
 are often believed in by their followers as almost supernatural or infallible, 
 so the followers of this man received his teachings with the unreasoning 
 faith that fanaticism and religious excitement will sometimes produce in 
 even the most well-balanced minds. So polygamy was established as an 
 important doctrine in the religion of the LatteV-Day Saints. The women are 
 taught that only by patiently bearing their cross, submitting to and obeying 
 -their husbands, and advancing his interests, can they hope for happiness in 
 the future life. If the question arises, why are they so simple-minded as to 
 receive, and submit to such teachings? the answer is apparent. They know 
 no other life; they receive no other instruction than that which instills the 
 Mormon religion into their minds. All the influences by which they are 
 surrounded from very infancy, tend toward deceiving them into a belief in 
 their religion. They have been kept ignorant by the authorities lest a culti- 
 vation of the intellect stir up rebellion against their oppressors. For a suc- 
 cessful reign of tyranny and oppression, ignorance in the subjects is a neces- 
 sity. All despotic rulers know this, and as the recent slave-holder of the 
 South allowed the poor African no opportunity to obtain an education, lest 
 he rise up and defy him, as the Roman priesthood discourage any education 
 in the church save a strictly Romish one, lest it loose its power over its vast 
 dominion, so the Mormons look upon education in their subjects as destruc- 
 tive to their institutions. 
 
 Tliere have always been men and women in the Mormon Church who did 
 not believe in the religion they professed to accept. But though broken- 
 hearted, though stung to madness, though plunged into the deepest despair 
 
 938602 ^'^ 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 by tlieir wrongs, yet the possibility of liberatincr themselves from their bond- 
 age scarcH'ly occurred to the women, aixl indeed has not existed many years. 
 If a de^iperate soul sought relief from her troubles in flight from the Terri- 
 tory, she was jmrsued, not by the blood-hound that scented the African 
 refiigee, but by the l)loo(l-hf)un(l in human form, wiio sought to capture her 
 and return her to the miseries of Mormon life. And this was done in the 
 name of religi(jn! 
 
 The hearts of these women cry out in anguish for deliverance. Their 
 prayers to a merciful Father ascend day and nighr, that his hand will relieve 
 them from the sorrows of their life. They look towards the government 
 with hope for themselves, as each law is passed for the suppressing of polyg- 
 amy. But their hope is turned to despair as they Avitness the inabilityof 
 Congress to enforce the laws it passes, and the successful defiance of the law- 
 breaking citizens of Utah. But they can only suffer in silence. They dare 
 not raise their voice to plead their own cause. More helpless are they than 
 the negro slave, for they are of the weaker sex, and must submit to the 
 j)Ower of physical might. Will our nation suffer this wrong to go oii, to 
 perpetuate itself, to increase and spread as it is rapidly doing now? "Will it 
 at a fearful sacrifice of money and life, by one of the mightiest, grandest 
 movements a nation ever made, abolish one terrible curse to our country, 
 and ignore the existence of its equal, when a comparatively insignificant 
 strutrgle would suffice to exterminate it? Is the freedom of "the black man 
 and his redemption from ignorance to be considered more imperative, more 
 desirable than the freedom of women from the most degrading life a woman 
 can lead? Were the cries of the slave under the lash more jiitiable than are 
 the heart miseries of these women? Were the separation of husband and 
 wife by the stern decrees of the auction block more to be deplored and abol- 
 ished than the constant misery of u polygamic life? Is not this slavery of 
 the West a much more despicable one than that of the South, in that it' is a 
 slavery of defenceless women, a doubly debasing institution, and in that the 
 Borrows of the victims are brought upon them by their own husbands? Again, 
 the slavery of the South, though justified by its" participants, was not adopted 
 a.s a religious ordinance. In Mormondom liearts are wantonly crushed, 
 homes polluted, the basest of wickedness perpetrated, and all in the name 
 of religion. What blasphemy against a just and i)ure God! Where in all 
 the enlightened countries of the globe, can be found so foul a stain, as that 
 whi<;h blackens the otherwise fair fame of our nation? 
 
 Will our government weakly allow its laws to be trampled under foot and 
 ignore the defiance of a body of men, fast increasing in numbers and influ- 
 ence? Let it attack this great evil with the energy which characterized the 
 putting down of the rebellion and the blotting out of slavery, or even with 
 the same relentless persistence with which the poor Indian"is driven from 
 T.lace to ])lace on his native soil, and polygamy will be a thing of the past, 
 fhen will the United States stand pro'udly' forth, the grandest, noblest 
 nation on the globe. 
 
Elder Northfield's Home; 
 
 OR, 
 
 SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ^ ^ TTTELL, Marion, here we are ! — trunks packed ; fare- 
 ' » well calls made; passages engaged; tears all 
 shed ; — wish I were sure of the last. how hard I find 
 it to leave my dear home and country, much as I always 
 wished to go to America, and to have a home with aunt 
 Wells ! But you, Marion, seem so very happy. I wonder 
 if I should be in such a delightful frame of mind if I 
 were on the eve of marrying a Mormon elder, and emigrating 
 with him to Zion, as you call it, where the people are all of 
 one faith, the women dress so simply, and think and care 
 for nothing but their religion. I am afraid I should make a 
 poor saint, Marion. I couldn't give away all my fine dresses, 
 jewelry and ornaments, as you have done ; I should keep 
 them, and at least dress in them once in a while, if but to 
 admire myself and not forget how I used to look when I 
 belonged to the world, and I should not want to attend 
 meetings so constantly. This emigrating to Zion seems to 
 me altogether uncalled for. The new people seem to be a 
 
 (5) 
 
6 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 very good, religions people, with many good precepts in their 
 doctrine. But there is much in their belief that calls for an 
 amount of faith wliich I am incapable of exercising. I do 
 not see why these other denominations are not quite as likely 
 to tide us safely into heaven as Mormonism, and certainly 
 their ways are much pleasanter." 
 
 "Ah, Elsie," responded Marion, "you seek to get into 
 heaven by an easy way. 'Straight is the road, narrow is 
 the way, and few there be that find it.' Doesn't Christ say 
 'follow me,' and was his life here on earth an easy one? 
 Did he not say, ' Thy will, not mine, be done? ' Did he not 
 cast in his lot with the despised and lowly, and should the 
 disciple be above his Master? Are we to expect to wear the 
 crown, if we do not bear the cross, in this life? I am filled 
 with peace and joy, the more so the more sacrifice I make 
 for the kingdom. I never knew such happiness before, and 
 I feel like being just as holy and obedient to God as possible. 
 The greatest pleasure I have now is in attending these meet- 
 ings. The Spirit of God is powerfully manifested, and as 
 you know, many who come to scoff go away converted, or 
 thoughtful at least, and you, Elsie, I think, cannot deny 
 that the power of God is with them, as though they were his 
 chosen people." 
 
 " Yes, Marion, I must admit the meetings have an influ- 
 ence over me when I am present, and the elders seem to prove 
 all they say from the Bible, and I can't for my life reason 
 their arguments away. But when I am alone I begin to 
 think for myself, and somehow I can't have faith in these 
 divine revelations to Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. I 
 know, as they say, the Bible says ' your young men shall 
 dream dreams, and your old men shall see visions.' I know 
 they say, ' If men were inspired in olden times, why not 
 now? ' Perhaps ^lormonism is the true religion ; but I can't 
 believe that our own dear mother, that dear old aunt Eunice. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 7 
 
 that Agnes Ainsworth, who died so s\veetl.y, after living such 
 a good life, and that our minister, and all the good people 
 "\ve know, must be shut out of heaven because they were not 
 gathered into the Church of Latter-Day Saints. Their idea 
 of a new dispensation is not clear to me. But I have not 
 received so many private lectures on the subject as you have, 
 Marion. After so much conversation as you have enjoyed 
 with Elder Northfield, you ought to understand the myste- 
 ries of the doctrine perfectly. O, do not try to hide your 
 blushes ! They are very becoming — or would be if you were 
 not so plainly dressed, and if the effect were heightened by 
 some of the vanities you have discarded and packed in my 
 trunk. It would be but a poor reward for all his devotion, 
 his earnest love-making and missionary zeal, if you did not 
 sympathize with him in his religion, which seems to be a part 
 of himself. But I can't help thinking that he has rather neg- 
 lected me, and that if some of these hours devoted to 3^ou had 
 been spent in preaching to me, he might have been rewarded 
 for the sacrifice by adding another convert to his list." 
 
 " I wish he had, Elsie ; indeed I do." 
 
 " Well, but you did not seem to wish so then, Marion." 
 
 " I will not be so selfish any more, and I will ask him on the 
 voyage to teach you, and explain all these things, for some- 
 how I am not good at explaining them myself, though they 
 are so clear to me as Henry expounds to me the doctrine." 
 
 " God grant, dear sister, that you may always be as happy 
 in your religion as you are now ! I never thought we 
 should be separated, but I cannot go with you to Utah, for I 
 am not a Mormon — unless Henry converts me on the way, 
 and I fancy his bride will have most of his attention, as she 
 has heretofore." 
 
 " 0, I pray you may yet see the light and go with me ! 
 The separation from you is the only cloud in my sky. 
 -With you and Henry, I should be happy anywhere ! " 
 
8 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 "IMarion, forgive mc if I say nnytliing to grieve 3'on, but 
 to-morrow I give you to Henry; and this is our last confi- 
 dential talk while you are mine, and perhaps for a great 
 ■while, for we shall scarcely be alone hereafter, and some- 
 thing tells me our old confidence will not be the same after 
 you are married, so I want to tell you all my thoughts to- 
 night. Are you sure that your happiness, peace, and joy 
 come from this heavenly love entirely ? I observe that 
 "when Henr}^ is the speaker in the meetings you are aroused 
 to much more enthusiasm for your religion than at other 
 times. Now might you not mistake your happiness, and 
 love for him, and your interest in everything that interests 
 him, your sympathy with him in all he thinks and believes, 
 for religious devotion ? Are you sure you know your own 
 heart, Marion? " 
 
 " 0, sister, how can^'€)U ask me ? " 
 
 "I did not mean to pain you, but I feared your religion 
 alone might not always give you such peace. I hope, with 
 all my soul, it will. It is very beautiful to think so." 
 
 "I know it will, Elsie! I love Henry, O, so much! You 
 cannot think how much. I love him even more than I love 
 you, Elsie! but I truly believe I love God and my religion 
 more. Plenry himself has taught me that ' whosoever 
 leaveth not father and mother, sister and brother, huslmnd 
 and wife, for God and the gospel, is not wortliy to be reck- 
 oned a saint.' I think — yes, I think — I would leave them all 
 if God required the sacrifice." 
 
 "Then, Marion, dear, I did you injustice in my thoughts, 
 and with all my heart I hope, in your new life, you will be, 
 ,as you seem now, perfectly happy." 
 
 " Except for the thought of leaving 3'ou behind ; and one 
 other thing which of course it is very silly to mention, or to 
 be troubled with. But I will open my heart to you, as you 
 have to me, on this last night we may be alone together. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 9 
 
 Of course it cannot be true — it must be a scandal — the 
 report we heard of some of the saints in Utah having more 
 than one wife. But once in a while — only once in a great 
 while — my heart suddenly sinks, so that it seems as if I 
 should faint, and the thought of that report flashes into my 
 mind, and I dismiss it as suddenly. Then I am all right 
 again. I have talked with Henry about it, and he says it is 
 a foul slander against the church of God. That always 
 God's chosen people have suffered persecution for righteous- 
 ness sake, and he quoted the words, ' Blessed are ye when 
 men shall revile you, and shall say all manner of evil against 
 you falsely for my name's sake.' Henry does not in the least 
 believe that, or any other wickedness is sanctioned there. 
 You know the saints are not popular, and many are poor, 
 and public opinion is against them. But in the Celestial 
 Kingdom, they will have honor enough to compensate for 
 all their trials here. Henry says if he for a moment sup- 
 posed that this rumor was true, he never could believe in 
 Mormonism. When we were in London, at the conference, 
 we went together and asked an elder from Utah, and he was 
 astonished and indignant, and denied it positivel3^ So of 
 course there can be no truth in the rumor, and I feel that it 
 is wicked to even think of such an unholy thing. I resolve 
 never to think of it again, but still the thought comes like 
 a bUick shadow across my path. Now, Elsie, can it be pos- 
 sible, do you think, that such a thing is practised there?" 
 
 " Of course it cannot be, Marion ! I do not for one mo- 
 ment doubt the elder's word. I wonder you even think of 
 it at all — though the possibility of such a thing would be 
 terrible to 5^ou, of course, as you are to be a Mormon elder's 
 wife. These men are good, moral men, I do not doubt in 
 the least, however mistaken they may be in their belief, and 
 as they study the Bible, and take everything so literally, 
 they would be the last to disregard its plain teachings on 
 
10 ELDER XORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 that subject. Wh}^ ! only tlie vilest of men could be guilt}' of 
 such a crime, and certainly these Mormons we have seen are 
 hitelligent, noble-minded men. Your own promised husband 
 is a man of whom a woman might well be proud, Marion. 
 I respect him as I respect few men, and admire his kind- 
 heartedness, his intellect, his untiring zeal for ' the truth,' as 
 he calls it, and think it is very noble of him to sacrifice his 
 position and fine prospects as he did, for what he deemed 
 his duty, and cast in his lot with this people. If I must lose 
 my sister, I could not have chosen better for her. But O, 
 if he were not a Mormon, and would not take you away 
 from me to that wild and far away place ! Marion, darling I 
 when shall I ever see you again after you leave me in New 
 York!" 
 
 "Come with me, Elsie! 0, that you might be persuaded 
 to give up all for religion ! You would be so much happier ! 
 See how I am changed— naturally not light-hearted like 
 you, rather inclined to sad, morbid feelings; but they are all 
 gone, and now I am much the happier of the two. Cast 
 away your doubts and go with me to Utah, and you Avill 
 then see and know for yourself the beauties of religion, I 
 do believe. O, my dear sister, w^on't you — won't you come 
 with us?" 
 
 " I can't, Marion, I can't ! I shiver at the thought, though 
 why I don't know ! " 
 
 Then these twin sisters mingled their tears in silence, and 
 their hearts were knit together in the purest and strongest 
 of sisterly love. 
 
 Made orphans two years before, by the death of a kind 
 and loving father, they became more dear to each other in 
 their common sorrow, and were one, in heart and soul, as 
 sisters seldom are. Reared in comfort in a happy home in 
 England, and with no care or thought of poverty, it was a 
 great change to find with their father's death, they were 
 nearly penniless. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 11 
 
 Charles Wescott fully lived up to his income, and in- 
 dulged himself and daughters to many luxuries and extrav- 
 agances which were usually confined to people in a higher 
 grade of social life. He literally took " no thought for the 
 morrow," and his young and sorrowful daughters found that 
 they were dependent on their own exertions for their daily 
 bread. Elsie obtained a situation as teacher in the public 
 schools, and Marion was kindly employed by her friends to 
 teach music to their children. Recently a sister of their 
 mother (who died during their infancy) had written to them 
 from her home in New York, begging them to come to her, 
 as she had just lost by death her only daughter, and her 
 elegant home was desolate and lonely. They resolved to 
 go, as soon as they could properly conclude their engage- 
 ments. Meanwhile a crisis came in one life at least. 
 
 They had heard of the Mormons, or Latter-Day Saints, 
 and their curiosity was excited. One day as they returned 
 from their labors to their boarding-place, and entered the 
 parlor, they found there a gentleman, plainly dressed in 
 black, bending over a large Bible lying open on the table. 
 As he rose and apologized for his presence, and begged them 
 to remain, he displayed a fine form, and handsome, thought- 
 ful face. His eyes, large, dark, and full of a pleasant light, 
 seemed to look beyond the surface, into the inner life. His 
 forehead, high and intellectual, was shaded by soft w^avy 
 black hair, and as his lips parted in a smile, they disclosed 
 the whitest and firmest of teeth. Soon he was on pleasant 
 terms with his new friends, talking with them familiarly. 
 As Elsie saw Marion's eyes light up, and her cheeks glow 
 with enthusiasm, she did not fail to notice the glances of 
 admiration the gentleman bestowed on her. At his request 
 Marion seated herself at the piano. Her golden hair would 
 stray from its fastenings, and peep out in little rings about 
 her neck and forehead. Her color came and w^ent and con- 
 
12 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME 
 
 stantly changed lier face from the paleness of marble to the 
 loveliest pink. Pier sky-blue eyes glanced shyly up as she 
 spoke. Elsie came near, with her auburn hair and fair, 
 piquant face, her large brown eyes beaming with love and 
 pride in Marion's accomplishment. Their new acquaintance 
 joined them in their songs and displayed much musical 
 talent. Thus the hour before tea rapidly passed, and then 
 Mrs. Newton, the lady of the house, appeared and intro- 
 duced the new-comer as Elder Northfield. Great w^as the 
 surprise of Marion and Elsie to learn that their new ac- 
 quaintance was a Mormon elder, and that lie was to hold a 
 meeting that evening in a small hall. They resolved to 
 attend. Mrs. Newton accompanied them. There were as- 
 Bembled only a few people, for the pastors of the churches 
 were universally opposed to the new movement and had 
 warned their flocks against it. The young elder, after an 
 earnest prayer, in a clear and attractive way proclaimed the 
 doctrines of his belief, and, with Bible in hand, proved every 
 assertion from its pages. Verse after verse, chapter after 
 chapter, he readily turned to or repeated, until it seemed 
 that they were listening, not to his words, but to the words 
 of the Bible brought forth in a new light, and by one filled 
 with inspiration from on high. His eloquence and earnest- 
 ness increased as he proceeded, till his flice was transformed 
 and his eyes were filled with what seemed a heavenly light. 
 His words carried more or less of conviction to every heart. 
 The deepest silence reigned. All eyes were riveted on the 
 speaker, and breathlessly they listened to his closing appeal 
 to cast away their sins, enter the true Church of God, and 
 enjoy that wonderful abiding peace — the fullness of joy. He 
 ofi'c'rcd a sliort prayer, appointed another meeting, and gave 
 out a closing iiynm, wiiich was sung by the whole congre- 
 gation. As Marion listened to his voice among the others, 
 its sweetness thrilled her through and through, and she felt 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 13 
 
 that to cast her life in with such a people, to be filled with 
 the same holy joy with which this man was blessed was 
 then her greatest desire. 
 
 The meetings continued and increased in size and interest, 
 in spite of the efforts to oppose them. Marion became a con- 
 vert to the new faith. Mrs. Newton also cast her lot with the 
 saints, and Elsie attended the meetings faithfully with her 
 sister, but she did not come into the faith. The elder, Marion, 
 and Mrs. Newton, who, with Elsie, then comprised the family, 
 labored with her, to bring her into the church, a saved and 
 happy member. All to no purpose, however. She resisted 
 all their arguments and earnest appeals, and failed to have 
 faith in the divine revelations. This was a cause of grief to 
 Marion, and also to her sister, who had heretofore never 
 essentially disagreed with Marion. 
 
 Soon the admiring glances, and slight attentions of the 
 elder, to the golden-haired Marion, gave place to long con- 
 versations and quiet walks, and often Elsie would miss her 
 sister, who would return and blushingl}'' confess that the 
 elder had been explaining to her more fully some points in 
 the doctrine ; or that the elder had asked her to walk with 
 him, and she had just returned. At length Marion confided 
 to her sister that Elder Northfield had asked her to be his 
 wife, and that she had promised him, and they were to be 
 married and emigrate to Zion as soon as he should be per- 
 mitted to leave the missionary work in other hands. She 
 earnestly pleaded with her sister to accompany her, but 
 Elsie sorrowfully refused, and said she would go with them 
 to New York, and there remain with her aunt. 
 
 There were a number of Mormons — elders and converts — 
 on board the sailing-vessel, besides Elder Northfield and his 
 bride, who, with Elsie, had left the shores of their native 
 England, and were sailing across the ocean to America. 
 Elsie's predictions were fulfilled as to the elder's devotion 
 
14 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 to Marion on the voyage, to tlie exclusion of everything else, 
 save always his religion. He evidently had given up all 
 attempts to convert her to the new faith, and slie was glad, 
 for she was secretly wearied with it, and regarded it as very 
 annoying to herself, and as being the cause of her separation 
 from her sister, who w^ould leave her soon among perfect 
 strangers with not one face near her on which she had ever 
 looked before. Elsie's heart was very heavy at times, and 
 all Marion's cheerfulness and joy could not dispel the gloom. 
 She watched her sister and her husband, in their relations 
 with each other, with an anxious mother interest, to assure 
 herself that Marion's fond anticipations were realized. She 
 was satisfied. Elder Northfield was by his wife's side almost 
 constantly, except when engaged in conversation with the 
 elders, some of whom were from Salt Lake City, and now 
 returning, after having converted many to the new faith 
 who were about to emigrate in great numbers to Utah. 
 Elsie soon conceived a great dislike for one elder on account 
 of a foolish infatuation he did not attempt to conceal, for a 
 pretty girl who was young enough to have been his daughter. 
 Marion had not noticed this, for her own love affairs had so 
 engrossed her attention, and she had the most unbounded 
 faith in all the elders, and in Elder Parker especially, as he 
 was directly from Zion and had lived on intimate terms 
 with Brigham Young himself. She was one day talking of 
 the elders to Elsie and casually spoke of Elder Parker's wife. 
 '' Elder Parker's wife, Marion ! Has Elder Parker a wife ? " 
 " Certainly, and five children. Why do you seem so as- 
 tonished? I see. You think strange of his leaving her to 
 come to England and preach the gospel. Think of the 
 sacrifice it must have been for him to leave her and his 
 little ones, of whom they say he is very fond. I am told 
 that his wife, who is very devoted to him, even urged him 
 to accept the mission, and accounted herself happy and 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 15 
 
 honored in giving him up for the church. O, Elsie ! Could 
 I ever be willing to part with my Henr}^ if it were my duty! 
 I fear I am not submissive enough, but hope I shall become 
 willing to do, or be anything in God's hands, when I am 
 fairly within the fold in Zion. But speaking of Elder 
 Parker, now how happy his family will be made by his 
 arrival. I quite like to think of it, and imagine the meet- 
 ing between him and his wife." 
 
 Elsie thought she would not like to imagine or witness a 
 meeting between him and his wife at that moment, for on 
 deck the lovers were standing, hand in hand, and at the 
 elder's whispered words the color came into the' girl's face 
 and then left her quite composed. She did not directly 
 answer Marion, but from that time she began to lose faith 
 in the goodness of the Utah Mormons, though she still be- 
 lieved her countrymen and women were honest and sincere, 
 though they might have been deceived. Marion's husband 
 she believed was a good man. He had become converted 
 and joined the saints in England, and on account of his 
 talents and zeal, hM been ordained elder, and had acted 
 efficiently in that capacity. He believed in his religion as 
 devoutly as he did in his Marion. He loved it as he did 
 Marion. He endeavored to conscientiously obey every word 
 of counsel, from those above him in the church. He de- 
 voutly believed all they taught, and accepted their teach- 
 ings as being the revealed will of God to man. 
 
 El-sie began to notice a cloud on his brow, and a sorrow- 
 ful glance occasionally at Marion, when the latter did not 
 observe him. She saw him holding a great deal of very 
 earnest conversation with the elders, and by his appearance 
 he was antagonistic to all the others. They appeared to 
 change the subject as Marion approached her husband, and 
 he lovingly took her arm in his. Jealously watching every- 
 thing likely to affect Marion, it made her uneasy. Marion 
 
16 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 at last seemed to notice a change in her husband, or in his 
 ways, and said to Elsie, " I wish Henry would not talk with 
 the elders quite so much, though I fear it is wrong for me to 
 wish that. I am so selfish that I want him with me all the 
 time. Of course it is right that he should learn all he can 
 from them and talk with them a great deal. I am glad he 
 is so devoted to his religion." 
 
 A day or two later she said to Elsie : " Elsie, do 3'ou 
 know what the word polygamy means? I went up to the 
 group of elders to speak to Henry, and I heard the word 
 polygamy uttered two or three times, and then something 
 about Abraham and the olden time, and that was all I 
 heard, for they noticed me then and stopped talking. Henry 
 did not leave them and join me as he often does ; but they 
 asked me to be seated with them, and although I would 
 like to have stayed with my husband, I saw that I was inter- 
 rupting their conversation, so I came away. I will ask 
 Henry when he comes what they were talking about. Have 
 you any idea, Elsie, what the word polygamy means ? " 
 
 "I am sure I cannot tell you, Marion, its meaning. 
 Probably it is one of the terms peculiar to the Mormon 
 faith, like many others that are not common among the 
 ' world's people.' " 
 
 Elsie's heart was filled with terrible forebodings, as what 
 she saw and heard recalled the old scandal concerning the 
 saints in Utah. She had some idea of the meaning of the 
 word, but would not needlessly alarm Marion by telling her 
 fears. O why had she been so sure there was no truth in 
 the report! Why had she quieted Marion's fears, which 
 might have been fostered and prevented her marriage and 
 emigration ! Why had she — so faithless as regarded their 
 doctrines — trusted implicitly in their goodness and morality ! 
 Why had she not remained away from their meetings and 
 kept Marion away ! No, that would have been impossible. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 17 
 
 Marion would have followed Elder Northfield anywhere. 
 His influence was stronger than hers. Since he looked at 
 her with those fascinating eyes, Marion had become another 
 person. Elsie mourned that her sister was lost to her, and 
 looked with dread upon Marion's future. Then she tried to 
 reason away her fears and believe all was well. She told 
 herself no religious society could be so degraded in this en- 
 lightened age as to adopt such a practice. The United States 
 Government would not allow it, of course. And Elsie nearly 
 persuaded herself that her fears were groundless. 
 
 When Marion was alone with her husband, she asked him 
 what the elders meant by the word polygamy, and of what 
 they were speaking, and why they so suddenly stopped at 
 her approach. A look of annoyance and sadness came upon 
 Elder Northfield's face, and his only answer was to caress 
 his young wife. She repeated her question. "Ask me to- 
 morrow, Marion," he said. 
 
 " But, Henry, cannot you tell me now ? " and the blue 
 eyes were filled with the tears that had been gathering all day. 
 
 " No, dearest, I can't tell you now. You love me enough 
 to wait for my answer, I know." 
 
 " Yes, Henry, but it is strange you cannot tell me now. 
 Is it something dreadful? You look so strange. Is it — 
 is it—" 
 
 " Come, Marion, let us join Elsie now and think of some- 
 thing else." 
 
 The next day Marion came to Elsie, with weary step and 
 faltering lips. Her face had lost all its happiness— her eye 
 all its brightness. Pale and sad, she laid her head on Elsie's 
 shoulder, and after a deep sigh she said : " I came to tell 
 you, Elsie, that I have found out what the word polygamy 
 means." 
 
 " Have you ? " said Elsie. " I have found out, too, my poor 
 child ! And what are you going to do about it? " 
 2 
 
18 ELDER XORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 "Do? What can I do, Elsie? There is nothing that I 
 can do ; but ! thank heaven ! /shall never know by expe- 
 rience what it means. My dear, dear Henry ! He will be 
 true to me, and me alone." 
 
 " How can you be sure of that? " 
 
 " I have his word, and he never broke it, and I trust him '- 
 but I will tell you all about it. O, I am so miserable, to 
 think that the religion I have loved so well has proved to 
 have such a terrible curse attached to it! Just think of it! 
 Henry tells me that the saints (are they saints or are they 
 sinners ?) have as many wives as they please and can sup- 
 port, and the more they have, the more honor to them in 
 the Celestial Kingdom. Even Elder Parker, whom I have 
 esteemed so highly, has three wives at home, and on arriving 
 at Salt Lake City will take another, the pretty young En-Hsh 
 girl you and I have seen with him on deck. Elsie, I think 
 this is terrible! My faith in everything about Mormonism 
 is shaken now — and I did so love my religion. I thought 
 they were all so good, and Henry did, too. He never be- 
 lieved in polygamy being a doctrine of the saints. They 
 always denied it to him, and since we have been on board 
 this vessel, the elders have faithfully labored with him, to 
 convince him that it is right. At first he was shocked. 
 But ! Elsie ! Here comes the worst trial of all ! I can see 
 that gradually they are influencing him and weakening his 
 scruples. He places such implicit trust in all the higher 
 authorities, and iu their divine inspirations, that he has 
 hitherto accepted anything that they have taught him. 
 They are now working hard to prove to him that plural 
 marriages are ordained of heaven. They are very skilful, 
 and talk about Abraham and all the men in the old Bible 
 times having more than one wife and being blessed of God. 
 They say this new dispensation is to resemble the old one, 
 and Henry is going to get a copy of the revelation, and we 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 19 
 
 are to peruse it together. He believes all the other doctrines 
 just as firmly as ever, while 1 begin to feel doubtful of cvery- 
 thino:, just as you always have. He does not yet believe in 
 polygamy, but says they make it look so plausible that he 
 cannot answer their arguments. He dreaded to tell me, be- 
 cause he knew of my horror at the thought, before we left 
 England, but he assured me with the strongest of promises 
 that never would he enter into polygamy, and I should be 
 his only wife. He cared not for so high a place in the king- 
 dom, if I only were at his side. The plural wife system is 
 as utterly repugnant to his feelings as it is to mine, and 
 although others may be justified in it, he never could. He 
 thinks they are in error, and will see their wrong; but they 
 tell him when he has read the revelation, he will be fully 
 convinced. Now, it looks to me like wickedness, instead of 
 error. I can look at it in no other way, and the whole of 
 this belief that did look so bright to me now looks dark. I 
 thought he would leave the Mormons if this were true, but 
 I see he has no thought of it. He believes they are in the 
 main right at least. O! now I dread to enter Zion as much 
 as I did desire to do so ! To live in the midst of polygamy, 
 though I know I never shall enter it! I have perfect faith 
 that Henry will always be mine alone, or my heart would 
 surely break. Those poor women ! Though they say it is 
 part of their religion, and they are contented and happy, as 
 they consider it tlie will of heaven, and they submit, and 
 God blesses them. O! I never could submit — never! if I 
 knew I should not enter heaven ! O ! Elsie ! Elsie ! How 
 little I thought when I left my home, such a ha^ipy bride, 
 that I should so soon be so miserable ! " 
 
 And Marion laid her head in Elsie's lap, and sobbed, 
 while Elsie stroked her golden head, and called her by the 
 many endearing names she had been wont in their girlhood 
 days. " Marion," said Elsie, when the storm of grief was 
 
20 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 over, and the tearful eyes and bowed head were at last 
 raised, "Marion, you must not go to Salt Lake City! You 
 must never live in the midst of such w-ickedness and 
 misery. There can be no happiness for my darling sister 
 there." 
 
 " Elsie, you forget that I am married, and that where my 
 husband goes, I must go. Where he goes, I want to go, and 
 in his hands lies our future," Marion answered with some 
 spirit. 
 
 " Your husband must not go to Utah. He must not take 
 you away from me, to a place where you W'ill be unhappy. 
 I could give you up if I felt sure your own life would be 
 the peaceful one you have thought it would. But to go 
 now, Marion — no, Elder Northfield must not take his bride 
 to any but a happy home. Persuade him to remain in 
 New York. He can easily find employment there. Plead 
 with him not to go to Utah. Use all your influence — and it 
 is great, Marion — to persuade him to give up his project of 
 emigrating to Zion. He loves you too much, I do believe, to 
 refuse your earnest entreaties." 
 
 " No, Elsie," sadly answered Marion, " you are wrong. I 
 did not think I would tell you, but I will. I did ask him 
 not to go to Utah, but to remain in New York, and though 
 he did not positively refuse me, I can see that he considers 
 it our duty to go on, and duty to him is law. Much as he 
 loves me, I believe he loves his religion better, and it grieves 
 him to see me so sad, especially after his repeated promises 
 not to bring sorrow to my heart. So I will not trouble him 
 more than need be, for this has been a trial to him, too. I 
 mean to go with him clieerfully, and after a little, I dare 
 say I shall become quite contented again, and perhaps when I 
 know more of Mormon life, it will appear less repugnant to 
 me. Certainly my own home mny always be a happy one, 
 and if other women are not made miserable by polygamy, 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 21 
 
 why should I make myself miserable by my sympathy for 
 them ? " 
 
 " 0, " thought Elsie, " that I could have Marion's confi- 
 dence in her husband. Oh, that I could feel sure as she 
 does, that her husband never will bring sorrow to her heart. 
 He means all he says, no doubt, now, but in the coming 
 3'ears, in the midst of Mormon influence, and with all his 
 faith in Mormon teachings, will he still be true to my 
 darhng? 0, why did I not see all this and prevent it?" 
 
 It was this dark foreboding, this unspoken dread, that 
 caused Elsie to resolve to prevent her sister from ever arriv- 
 ing; at her intended destination* 
 
 With this resolution she sought an opportunity to con- 
 vince her brother-in-law of the imhappiness he was bring- 
 ing to his wife. Believing that Marion had not allowed him 
 to know the intensity of her disappointment and sorrow, she 
 felt sure his heart would be easily touched by a plea for her, 
 and he might be persuaded for her sake to abandon his 
 purpose of spending his life in Utah. But Elsie was the 
 one person with whom Elder Northfield did not care to be 
 left tete-d-tete. He avoided her clear, penetrating eyes, and 
 shrunk from the scorn with which he knew she would treat 
 the new doctrine. Uneasy and dissatisfied himself, and un- 
 comfortable at the thought of his young wife's sadness, he 
 did not wish to be made more so by Elsie's sharp arguments 
 or appeals, so he took good care not to be alone with her 
 during the few remaining days of the voyage. This she ob- 
 served, but consoled herself by thinking that when they ar- 
 rived at New York, where all the Mormons on board were to 
 remain for a few days, until the arrival of the next emigrant 
 vessel, and then journey together to Utah — there at her 
 aunt's he could not so easily avoid her. In this, also, she 
 was to be disappointed. 
 
22 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE voyage had been a tiresome one, as all voyages were 
 in the days of slow sailing vessels, and now as they were 
 Hearing land, a general cheerfulness pervaded the whole ship. 
 Anticipations of meeting friends, excitement of life in a new 
 countr\^, and last visits with acquaintances formed on the 
 voyage, caused a lively, pleasant excitement, quite in con- 
 trast with the former monotony on board. Elder Parker 
 and his infatuated English girl were rapturously happy, and 
 were thinking of celebrating their marriage immediately 
 after their arrival in New York. All the Mormon elders were 
 very jovial now (save, perhaps, Elder Northfield), and even 
 Elsie and Marion had regained some of their former good 
 spirits, and were anticipating much pleasure in spending 
 some days together with their aunt and seeing the attrac- 
 tions of the great American metropolis. But one day Elder 
 Northfield came to his wife, saying, " Marion, I have made 
 excellent arrangements for our accommodations on our ar- 
 rival in New York, close by the Mormon boarding-house and 
 publishing rooms. Tliere is no room for us at the boarding- 
 house, but Elder Crosby promises to secure us board in a 
 private Mormon family, near where he is to board, and 
 where Elder Parker will take Carrie w'hen she becomes his 
 wife." 
 
 " 0, Henry, I never for a moment supposed we would go 
 anywhere except to my aunt's. She expects us and will be 
 very much disappointed if we do not go to her home. And 
 Elsie will be there — and — and — I thoudit — " Marion's 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 23 
 
 voice failed her, and her e5^es filled with tears. This new 
 trial was too much for her composure. 
 
 " Why, Marion, I thought you would be pleased with the 
 arrangement, and supposed you expected to give up all Gen- 
 tile associations. You know, dear, we are to give up the 
 world. You have sacrificed all for religion, haven't you, 
 Marion, and cast in your lot with mine ? And the elders 
 all very much disapprove of associating with the world's 
 people, and we cannot directly disobey counsel. Besides, I 
 think in your state of mind, you are much better off entirely 
 away from all Gentile influence. I am sure you will be 
 quite contented there. The elders say it is a very pleasant 
 boarding-place. We will look over the city together, and 
 cannot my darling be happy with me? Marion, I am quite 
 jealous of Elsie. I did think you loved me more than any 
 one else, but if Elsie is necessary to your happiness, what 
 can I infer from that?" 
 
 " nothing, Henry, only that I am to go so far away from 
 her, and perhaps never see her again, and you know she is 
 so very dear to me, and we never have been separated. I do 
 love you best. O, please do not doubt that, and I wdll will- 
 ingly go wherever you think best. But it is a disappoint- 
 ment to me, for we should have such a pleasant visit alto- 
 gether at my aunt's ; but as you say I am perhaps better 
 away from such influence, for I am so in doubt about the 
 doctrines that it would require but little to take away all my 
 faith. As I am to be a Mormon, I shall be happier in be- 
 lieving in Mormonism than in rebellion against its teachings. 
 Henry, believe that I do love you with my whole heart, and 
 where you go I will go." 
 
 For reply her husband tenderly drew her to him and 
 pressed a kiss upon her lips. 
 
 " But, Henry," Marion resumed, " I wish Elder Parker and 
 Carrie were not going to be near us. Somehow I feel such a 
 
24 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 disgust for that man. And that pretty girl who seems so 
 happy and so perfectly trustful in the future — how I pity 
 her — to be a man's fourth wife ! All living wives, too. She 
 cannot know what she is doing. She must be a weak- 
 minded person, it seems to me, to ever become resigned, 
 and even happy in contemplation of the future." 
 
 " Perhaps, Marion, she is wiser than you in accejDting the 
 doctrine so implicitly. It may be no other Mormon woman 
 looks at polygamy with the horror you have of it. They 
 tell me the women of Utah are happy and contented in their 
 life and religion, and I hope my wife will become again the 
 trustful, happy believer in the faith that she was before this 
 revelation was made known to us." 
 
 " My fiiith may come back to me as I once believed, but 
 never 1 never ! can I believe in polygamy or accept it as from 
 God. But it is not necessary for me to believe in that, Henry, 
 because we are never to know personally what it is." 
 
 "No, darling; no other shall ever enter my home or my 
 heart. You are the only one I shall ever call ' wife.' " 
 
 It was on one of the sunniest mornings of early spring 
 that an elegant private carriage w^as driven up to one of the 
 New York hotels and a sad-faced lady, clad in the deepest 
 of mourning, alighted and entered the house. After search- 
 ing the register, with a dissatisfied look, she requested to be 
 shown to the room of Miss Elsie Wescott. Just as she 
 reached the door, it opened, and standing just within stood 
 Marion. She had regained much of her former sprightliness 
 in the excitement of her arrival, and some remark of Elsie's 
 had caused a smile to light her whole face ; her hair was 
 allowed to fall in wavy masses down her shoulders, and a 
 ray of sunlight made it sparkle and shine like burnished 
 gold. Each stood gazing at the other for a few seconds, when 
 the elder lady exclaimed : 
 
 " I know this is Marion !" 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 25 
 
 "And I know this is aunt Wells ! Elsie! Elsie! Aunt 
 has found us before we have had time to find her." And 
 the sad-faced lady, after lavishing kisses and caresses on the 
 two, took one face between her hands and said : 
 
 " You, Marion, are like your mother, my dear sister 
 Marion, as I last saw her, and you, Elsie," as she gently 
 caressed Elsie's auburn hair, " are like my own dear Lillian, 
 who has left my heart so desolate, and who now lies by her 
 father's side. How I shall love you both, and how I thank 
 God for sending you to me in my loneliness. I should not 
 have waited till to-day had I known of the arrival of your 
 vessel yesterday. I was very fortunate in finding out your 
 hotel — but we will not talk any more here, for I shall have 
 you in my own home presently, and your own home, too, it 
 must be. And ! my darlings ! I do hope you may be so 
 happy there that you will not leave it for many years. 
 Kow, how soon can you be ready to go with me? You are 
 mine now. Tell me that it is so, Elsie — Marion." 
 
 " I will be yours, ! so gladly, aunt," said Elsie ; ^' but 
 Marion belongs to another. She is spending this morning 
 with me in this my room ; but her husband is coming to 
 take her away in a few hours, and my twin-sister is soon to 
 be separated from me, perhaps forever." 
 
 " ! Marion ! Is this true ? And you are so young to be 
 a wife! Why did you not tell me and spare me this disap- 
 pointment ? " 
 
 " I did not know it myself for a certainty the last time I 
 wrote you, and then afterwards I thought I would rather tell 
 you than write it. I scarcely realize all that has passed 
 myself." 
 
 And Marion spoke truly. It seemed to her that all things 
 had so changed since the day she first met Elder Northfield 
 that years, instead of a few short months, must have 
 passed. 
 
26 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME 
 
 '' But tell me of your husband and what this separation 
 means. What is your new name?" 
 
 " I am Marion Northlield noAV, aunt Wells, and my hus- 
 band is — is — " 
 
 O how Elsie pitied her sister, as she saw how she dreaded 
 to utter the word Mormon. Marion seemed to choke, and 
 her eyes sank beneath the gaze of her aunt. Elsie longed to 
 help her, but was silent. 
 
 " My husband is a Mormon elder, and we are on our way 
 to Salt Lake City," Marion answered. 
 
 " Marion ! You the wife of a Mormon elder ! Elsie, tell 
 me, can that be true! My sister's child a victim of that 
 greatest curse and blight of our country, not even excepting 
 slavery !" 
 
 " Yes, aunt, it is too true," said Elsie, " and Marion is soon 
 to be in the midst of it." 
 
 " No, never, if I can save her ! Child, you must never go to 
 Salt Lake City ! You must never leave me ! You poor de- 
 luded girl ! Would you ruin your life ? Would you be for- 
 ever miserable in polygamy ? " 
 
 " No, aunt Wells, polygamy will never make me misera- 
 ble, except as I may sympathize with others if I see them 
 suffering from it. My husband will never enter into it. He 
 dislikes it as much as I do, and only on our vo3"age from 
 England did we learn that it was one of the doctrines of the 
 saints. I have his most solemn assurance that never will he 
 take another wife while I live, and I know he will be true to 
 me and his word. I shall go on with him to Salt Lake 
 City, aunt Wells. He considers it his duty to go there, and 
 it is my duty to go with him and also my desire." 
 
 Mrs. Wells was astonished at the change so suddenly come 
 over Marion, as she answered her with so much wounded 
 dignit)\ Her blue eyes, so mild and timid a moment before, 
 now flashed with resentment at her aunt's imjDlied scorn for 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 27 
 
 her husband and his religion. Her slight figure was drawn 
 up to its utmost height as she tried to control her anger. 
 
 " Forgive me, Marion, for having offended you ; but, my 
 dear, let me tell you what I know. I know other young, 
 trusting wives, who were as sure of their husband's fidelity 
 as you are of yours, and I know how cruelly they have been 
 deceived. One of my dearest friends — my little Lillian's 
 governess — married a Mormon elder, who promised with all 
 a lover's w^armth and enthusiasm as your husband has 
 promised. That man has broken his vow and his young 
 wife's heart by marrying two more wives since he arrived at 
 Salt Lake City. She lives utterly neglected, I have heard, 
 wdth her two little ones, a few miles from the city, striving 
 by every means to keep herself and babes from starving, and 
 yet she was as young and, perhaps, as fair as you are. That 
 man is Elder Parker. Do you wonder at the horror I have 
 of seeing my sister's child — her own image — exposed to such 
 sorrow? Do you wonder that I have no confidence in the 
 promises of a Mormon ? " 
 
 Marion had sank into a chair and looked so miserable and 
 frightened that her aunt's heart ached for her. 
 
 " My dear, I would not torture you with my fears — I 
 grieve to do it — but you know less of Mormonism, probably, 
 than I do, although you are a Mormon yourself. You know 
 little of the influence that will be brought to bear upon 
 your husband when directly under Brigham Young's con- 
 trol. You know not how almost impossible it is for a man 
 to withstand the constant commands and counsels to marry 
 again. No doubt, Marion, your husband is sincere now, but 
 in the years to come, when the roses have faded from your 
 cheeks, and the sparkle gone from your eye, when lines of 
 care and sorrow have come into your face, will he be more 
 true than every other man just as honorable and sincere as 
 he now is?" 
 
28 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 " Yes, I believe he will, and I cannot bear that you should 
 ppeak so of him. Please do not any more. I see no reason 
 for your trying to destroy my fiiith in my husband. I think 
 it is wrong — unkind of you." 
 
 " It would be, Marion, the most cruel wrong I could do 
 you were it not to save you from greater trouble. It is not 
 your faith in your husband as a man, as a husband, that I 
 would weaken ; but your faith in him as a Mormon." 
 
 "And if you succeed, aunt Wells, what will you have 
 gained, except to have made me miserable, and needlessly 
 so?" 
 
 " I will have gained everything, child — everything for you. 
 I will have saved you from a miserable existence — from a 
 life of grief and despair. I will have secured to you the 
 happiness and confidence you heretofore have enjoyed in 
 your husband. For with the influence you must have 
 over him, the horror you will have of a life in polygamy, 
 you will, through some means, persuasion, or stratagem, or 
 rebellion, even, keep him away from that city where 
 my poor friend's life and so many others have been 
 wrecked." 
 
 "Aunt Wells, you do not know my husband. He does 
 love me — Elsie will tell you so — with his whole heart, but 
 he loves God most, I believe, and what he thinks it his duty 
 to do, that he Avill do. I have grieved him enough by rebel- 
 ling against his wishes and his religion, and I cannot be- 
 lieve, as you would have me, that his vow to me will be 
 broken. I do not believe in this religion as I did before we 
 learned of polygamy. I hate that ; but before I was so happy 
 in the new faith, and was so glad at the thought of gather- 
 ing with all the saints, prophets and apostles, under the 
 direct guidance of the great leader of the Mormon Church, 
 that I cannot throw away all my hopes of happiness yet. 
 If I could believe as you do, aunt Wells, that my hus- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 29 
 
 band would ever take another wife, all would be changed. 
 No ! I believe I should not change ! I should love him 
 still ! " 
 
 "But, Marion, you will at least try to persuade him. 
 There is room and a welcome for you all at my home ; there is 
 employment or business enough in New York for Elder 
 Northfield. I want you near me ; Elsie wants you. Do not 
 leave us without at least trying to prevent it." 
 
 Marion threw her arms around her aunt's neck, and said : 
 " Dearest aunt ! How I should love you ! How I wish it 
 might be as you say ! How I suffer at thought of parting 
 with Elsie ! I know you say all this for what you tliink is 
 my own good. But I believe you are mistaken: you do 
 not know my husband. Elsie knows him, and she does 
 not think this of him, I am sure. I have willingly con- 
 sented to go with him to Utah, and in return he has prom- 
 ised to devote his life to me and my happiness. How can 
 I thwart the most cherished desire of his heart? How can 
 I ask him to make such a sacrifice for me, and be unwilling 
 to make any for him ? It will seem like disputing his faith- 
 fulness to me to ask him to remain. I know it would 
 break my heart to lose his confidence, and I will not 
 deprive him of mine. Please, dear aunt, do not look at it 
 in such a terrible light. I feel sure my life will not be 
 ruined, but I look forward to a happy home of our own, 
 whatever our surroundings may be." 
 
 At her aunt's recital of a passage in Elder Parker's his- 
 tory, Marion's faith had failed her in spite of herself, and 
 she was sick at heart with terrible fear and apprehensions 
 for her own future. Only for a moment, however, for her 
 love for her husband conquered every doubt, and she was 
 again the confiding, hopeful wife. Her aunt felt how ut- 
 terly useless it was to entreat her further. Elsie had lis- 
 tened eagerly to the conversation, hoping her aunt's argu- 
 
30 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 mcnts wonld be effective. Marion's answer was so decided, 
 and so evidently final, that her aunt and sister felt that there 
 ■was no more to be said. They sat in silence for a few moments ; 
 then Mrs. Wells said : " Why are we wasting our time here? 
 I came to bring you home with me, and you will go, will 
 you not, Marion, if only for a few hours ? " 
 
 Marion readily assented, and soon with Elsie was en- 
 joying the beauties and comforts of their aunt's elegant 
 home. It was to be Elsie's home, but Marion did not covet 
 it, for no place, however beautiful, could be home to her 
 without the one who was to henceforth share her joys and 
 sorrows. Her aunt exerted herself to give her niece all the 
 pleasure her house, with its books, its music, its flowers, 
 and its beautiful grounds, could afford, in this her first visit 
 in the new world. But the hours soon fled, and Mrs. Wells 
 sent her carriage back to the hotel Avith Elsie and Marion, 
 saying, " During your stay in the city, Marion, you must 
 come and see us every day, and your husband also shall be 
 welcome." 
 
 At the hotel Elder Northfield had just arrived, and was 
 searching for Marion, when she returned and explained the 
 cause of her absence. Elsie noticed the fond smile as he 
 greeted his wife, and the tenderness with which he wrapj ed 
 her in her cloak and arrangCv^. the cushions and blankets of 
 the carriage with the utmost care for her comfort, and his 
 devotion inspired her with hope that after all, Marion's life 
 might be an exception to that of most Mormon women. 
 Marion, too, now seemed to have forgotten the unpleasant- 
 ness of her aunt's first conversation, and in her pleasure at 
 being again united with her husband after a few hours' sepa- 
 ration she did not notice the sadness that would come into 
 Elsie's voice as she said, "Good-bye, darling; come and see 
 me to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes, Elsie, if I can," she replied, and she left her sister, 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 31 
 
 who returned to her aunt, little thinking this was their final 
 parting. 
 
 But Marion grew very thouglitful as the events of the day 
 came back to her, as she thought of all her aunt's words, 
 and she could not repress her sadness at the thought of tliat 
 wronged wife suffering in Utah. She thought of the bride 
 Carrie, who was to be taken by that heartless husband as a 
 fresh insult to the miserable woman he had promised to 
 love and cherish till death did part. She remembered the 
 reverence with which she had looked up to him, and now 
 her soul was filled with contempt. An involuntary sigh es- 
 caped her. 
 
 " Marion," said her husband, "you seem thoughtful and 
 sad. You should have been made happy by a visit to your 
 aunt. Has anything unpleasant occurred? What have 
 they been saying to you to make you look so gloomy ? " 
 
 "Aunt Wells has been telling me a sad story of a friend 
 of hers who, when a bride, went to Utah." 
 
 " Is that the way in which she entertained you ? Really, 
 I think she might have shown more tact and chosen some 
 subject more pleasant and quite as appropriate to your cir- 
 cumstances. No wonder you look sad. I see. She is one 
 of the many persecutors our faith has, and has chosen to 
 show her love for her niece by attacking her religion. I do 
 not—" 
 
 " ! Henry ! She would never persecute any one. She 
 is so good and kind I cannot help loving her. I wish you 
 had seen her. But she was very much astonished — yes, and 
 even shocked — to learn that I had married a Mormon. Of 
 course, it made me very angry at first to listen to her attacks 
 on the Mormon elders, and I could not answer her pleas- 
 antly ; but when she told me what she knew of them, and 
 especially of her friend who was so cruelly treated — and, 
 Henry, let me tell you, this friend was the first wife of Elder 
 
32 EI.DKR NORTH FIP:I-1)'s HOME; OR, 
 
 Parker, and now lie cruelly neglects her and leaves her to 
 sufler alone and support her two children — when she told 
 me this I could not be angry with her, and did not wonder 
 at her prejudice against all Mormons. And, indeed, Henr}^ 
 I fear there are many bad men in the Church. Aunt Wells 
 has the advantage of living in this country and knowing 
 more of the native Mormons than you and I do." 
 
 " There are some bad men in every church. Even among 
 the twelve apostles there was a traitor; but, Marion, you 
 have only heard one side of Elder Parker's story. I have 
 been told that his first wife has caused him a gregit deal of 
 trouble, and has been so rebellious and wicked that it was 
 impossible for him to live with her. His other two wives 
 live together most harmoniously and are quite willing he 
 should take a fourth. I see no motive but a bad one in 
 your aunt talking to you in the way she has. To say 
 notliing of the insult of inviting j^ou to her house and 
 making your visit unpleasant, the inference from her words 
 was not what was due to your husband." 
 
 "O, she meant no disrespect to you, Henr}^, and wishes 
 you to come with me to her house any time." 
 
 "Marion, tell me, did she try to destroy j'our faith in me ? 
 Did she intimate that your husband would ruin his wife's 
 happiness as others have ? Did she tell you I would break 
 m}^ vow to my wife?" 
 
 "She said I never could be happy in Utah, and showed 
 me how much misery there was, and begged me to persuade 
 you to remain here. She told me there was room in her 
 home and a welcome for us all, and you could easily find 
 employment or business in the cit}', and she wanted me near 
 her and Elsie." 
 
 " Marion, you have not answered me ! Did your aunt try 
 to make you believe I would ever take another wife?" 
 
 Marion was frightened at the anger she saw in those deep, 
 dark eyes, and she answered : 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 33 
 
 " She said no doubt you wore sincere and honorable now, 
 but she feared 3^ou would not love nio so much when I am 
 older and less attractive, and that it would be almost impos- 
 sible for you to withstand the commands and counsel to 
 marry." 
 
 "And you allowed her to talk to you thus ! " 
 
 " 0, please do not look so angry. No ! I did not allow her, 
 but told her I thought she did very wrong to talk to me so, 
 and that it was to no purpose, for I would not even ask you 
 to give up going to Zion when I knew how your lienrt was 
 set on going, and I assured her that nothing could ever 
 make me doubt my husband's fidelity to me alone. She 
 asked my forgiveness for having offended me, and I could 
 not refuse to go with her, as she seemed so disappointed in 
 losing me. She said no more on the subject, and made my 
 visit a very agreeable one -asking me to come every day to 
 see her and Elsie." 
 
 The anger had all died out of Elder Northfield's eye as 
 Marion told him of her assurances to her aunt of faith in 
 her husband, and given place to a look of great tenderness 
 as he said : 
 
 " God bless my darling wife. She shall never regret her 
 trust in me." 
 
 They were silent a few moments ; then Elder Northfield 
 said : 
 
 "Marion, do you wish to go to your aunt's every day 
 while we are in New York ? " 
 
 " I— I— think I should like to, but perhaps I had better 
 not." 
 
 " I thought when you were telling me what she said to 
 you we would neither of us go there, but you shall do as 
 you please. I think, however, judging from this first visit, 
 that her society will not conduce to your happiness, and the 
 less you are with her the better. Intercourse with Gentiles 
 3 
 
34 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 is very elTective to destroy tlie saints' peace of mind, for they 
 are so prejudiced and opposed to the Mormons that they 
 will use every means in tlieir power against them. The 
 elders will condemn us if we do not withdraw from the 
 world. Elsie, I think, is a hindrance to you in the exercise 
 of your faith, and I hope when we are safely in Zion, away 
 from all these influences, to see you again the happy enthu- 
 siast you once were." 
 
 " Henry, do you wish me to keep away from Elsie and 
 aunt Wells?" 
 
 "Not altogether, Marion. It would be cruel to deprive 
 you of your sister's society entirely. I w^ill not ask that 
 sacrifice; but you know my views in regard to the matter, 
 and I believe it is for your good to avoid them as much 
 as you can, but let your own heart dictate to you, my dear. 
 I want you to be happy. It is for you to decide what will 
 most conduce to your happiness in the end." 
 
 But Marion was spared the trial of holding herself aloof 
 from her aunt and sister or disregarding her husband's 
 wishes. Her course was decided for her, and she had no 
 choice but to acquiesce in the decision. 
 
 Henry Northfield, though not a man of abundant means, 
 was not as poor as many of the emigrants were. He had 
 given liberally, according to his means, for the benefit of the 
 Church and assistance of the poorer emigrants, but had not, 
 like many in his circumstances, given his all. In this he 
 had been slightly censured by the higher authorities of tlie 
 Church, and accused of a lack of faith, but still he prudently 
 withheld something for the future wants of himself and wife. 
 Thus he had been able to emigrate with the other elders and 
 a few of their converts at his own expense, independent of 
 the emigration fund, and with much less discomfort and 
 privation than usually fell to the lot of Mormon emigrants. 
 Their journey from New York to Utah, however, was to be 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 35 
 
 postponed till the arrival of the next emigrant vessel, and 
 made in company with the poorer en)igrants. But the dis- 
 pensations and revelations of the Mormon Church are sub- 
 ject to many sudden changes, which would seem very 
 human were they not so positively divine. A message was 
 received that night from Brigham Young directing the 
 Mormons who might be in the city on their way to Zion not 
 to tarry, but to gather immediately to Zion without any 
 delay. 
 
 Marion had not accompanied her husband to the meeting 
 that evening, but had remained at her room, arranging for 
 her temporary stay in the city. It "was late before he re- 
 turned, and she would have been lonely, but slie had that 
 day made the acquaintance of Carrie, Elder Parker's bride, 
 and now was being entertained by the latter, who had also 
 remained at her boarding-place while Elder Parker attended 
 the meeting. She had come into Marion's room to chat 
 with her. Marion grew quite interested in Carrie, who was 
 gratifying her curiosity and interest by being very commu- 
 nicative in regard to her circumstances and expectations. 
 Carrie seemed quite resigned to being the fourth wife, for she 
 said she was not fourth in her husband's affections, but was, 
 he had told her, the first and only one he had ever really 
 loved. She was not aware that each of his previous wives 
 had received the same assurance and been made to believe 
 it. As for his other wives, she should not have the least 
 jealousy for them — poor things — but should be very kind 
 and indulgent to them, though she should take care that 
 they understood her position with relation to them, as Elder 
 Parker had decided that she was to be mistress of the house. 
 There were three children belonging to the two wives, but 
 she did not care for that, as she liked children, and presumed 
 they were very attractive. She knew she should love them, 
 for they were her dear husband's children. She expected to 
 
36 ELDER XORTIIEIEED's HOME; OR, 
 
 take life cnsy, for, of course, the other wives vrould not ex- 
 pect much of lier in the domestic line, ns she was so young, 
 and her time wouhl he so entirely devoted to her hushand. 
 She had sacrificed all for Mormonism and Elder Parker, in- 
 cludinp^ father, motlier, hrother and sisters, much against 
 their wislies, hut tliesc separations were as nothing when 
 weighed in tlie balance of duty and religion. In short, 
 Carrie was quite as contented and self-satisfied a person as 
 one might wish to meet with. Marion wondered at her 
 tranquil frame of mind, but could not but admit that, as her 
 husband had intimated, she was the wiser of the two, and 
 that it was well to believe that what must be, was what one 
 desired should be. 
 
 Elder Northfield returned to a very cheerful wife late in 
 the evening, and was quite prepared to sympathize with her 
 mood, as he joyfully told her of the word of command from 
 the head of the Church, and that they were to resume their 
 journey towards Zion by daybreak the next morning. It 
 liad not occurred to Elder Northfield in his preoccupation 
 that to Marion this would be the most unwelcome news — 
 that it meant final separation from her loved sister and a 
 closer contact with a system from which, in its best phase, 
 she shrunk. He did not realize how utterly bereft of enthu- 
 siasm Marion was in the religion which had once been so 
 dear to her. He could not know the repugnance which a 
 womau felt towards coming in close contact with what she 
 felt to be a great wrong to her sex. His devotion to his re- 
 ligion and desire to gather to Zion were so great that all obsta- 
 cles in the way were completely lost sight of, and he could 
 not sympathize with her in her grief, as it seemed that 
 so suddenly cutting all the tics that bound her to her former 
 life was like the cutting of her heart-strings. And worst of 
 all, it was impossible for her to see Elsie again. Had she 
 only known sooner she might have spent that evening in a 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 37 
 
 last visit with her sister. 0, how could she part with Elsie 
 with no farewell word! How could she leave her so soon, 
 perhaps forever ! Why must they he constantly controlled 
 in every movement by the Mormon authorities! Rebellion 
 was working in Marion's heart, and all her husband's sym- 
 pathy and kindness could not lift her load of sorrow. Her 
 hope in the future forsook her for the time, and all looked 
 dark. But she bravely tried to cast her sorrow from her for 
 her husband's sake, and set about undoing the Avork of the 
 evening and preparing for her journey. 
 
 The next morning Elsie, leisurely sipping her coffee in 
 her aunt's pleasant breakfast room, received the following 
 letter : 
 
 " My Dear Sister :— I pity you for the sorrow and grief 
 you will feel when you read this letter, and realize that 
 Marion is gone — when I tell you that as you read I shall 
 be journeying fast on my way to Salt Lake City. O, 
 Elsie! Elsie! Would that this night, instead of writing 
 to you, I might have your arms twined lovingly once 
 more about me, that I might lay my cheek against yours, 
 and be comforted in my trouble as I have so often been. 
 To leave you without a vrord, without one farewell kiss, 
 seems cruel to us both. I had hoped for so much pleasure 
 with you and aunt Wells before I left you! I thought 
 that not quite yet must the saddest side of Mormonism be 
 thrust upon me— a little while longer I might be in the 
 world if not of it, and enjoy something of its pleasures. For 
 I must admit, Elsie, that the world gives me more pleasure 
 now than my religion does. You remember that on the 
 evening before we left England, you expressed your fear 
 that my religion alone would not always give me the peace 
 I then enjoyed. Little did I then think how soon your fear 
 would become a reality. Now there is little m it that seems 
 
38 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME J OR, 
 
 attractive. O, that I might have the unwavering faith 
 that I once had, and this trial of leaving you would not 
 seem so great. Still I have no doubt that I shall recover my 
 usual spirits soon. I have been trying to hide my feelings 
 from Henry, as he seems so troubled and sorry for me, 
 though before he realized how I would take it, he was very 
 much delighted that we could so soon proceed to Zion. He 
 only learned of the change in the plan to-night at the meet- 
 ing, and returned very late — too late for me to go to you ; 
 and besides there was no time, for we had immediately to 
 repack all our goods preparatory to an early start. I can 
 only write you a farewell, Elsie, in the small hours of the 
 morning, and it must be brief, for Henry insists that I shall 
 try to get some sleep before I start. De:ir aunt Wells ! Tell 
 her how I regret that I can see no more of her. Ask her to 
 forget and forgive the resentment I showed in return for 
 her kind interest in me. Assure her of my thankfulness 
 that my sister has found so good a friend and protector in 
 her, and do not either of you let your hearts be troubled for 
 my future. Sad though I am at leaving you, and dreading 
 to come face to face with polygamy, yet I have no apprehen- 
 sions of evil coming across my own pathway, and I leave 
 you, Elsie, with confidence that when the present trial is 
 over, and we are finally established in a home of our own, 
 I shall be again the cheerful Marion who left dear old 
 England with you. And now I must stop writing. How 
 can I say farewf^il ! I leave you, Elsie, now, not as I once 
 thought I slioukl, for my religion's sake, but for my hus- 
 band's. And with him I cannot be unhappy, I feel sure. I 
 know in the future you will not forget me, and sometimes 
 perhaps we may be permitted to write to each other. God 
 IdIcps you, and grant that we may meet again, if not in this 
 world, in the eternal world never to part. 
 
 "Marion." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 39 
 
 Elsie read this letter ; then without a word, but with a 
 face showing the intensity of her emotions, she placed it in 
 her aunt's hands, and repaired to her own room, there to 
 calm her sorrow, and struggle with her hatred of a religion 
 which had bereft her of her dearest friend. 
 
40 ELDER NORTHFIELD'S HOME ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EMIGRATION to the west in those days was not the 
 easy matter it is to-day, for only a part of the jour- 
 ney could then be performed by rail. Instead of crossing the 
 plains with the rapidity and comfort that the introduction 
 of the great Pacific Railway gives, the emigrants slowly 
 travelled with ox-teams, advancing as far as might be by 
 day, and pitching their tents and camping out for the night. 
 There was much of hardship, privation and weariness in 
 even the most well provided of companies, of which the 
 little band of Mormons now gathering to Zion was one. But 
 of the sufferings from cold, hunger and overpowering 
 fatigue, of the deaths from exposure, from sickness, and 
 from the wolves whicli attacked the larger and poorer emi- 
 grant parties, they knew comparatively nothing. There 
 was much in the novel method of travelling that exhila- 
 rated and interested Marion at first, and all were so cheerful 
 and jovial and seemed so happy in the thought that tliey 
 were "a day's march nearer home," as they sung in their 
 meetings by the way, that she caught the infection, and 
 much to the joy of her husband began to look upon her 
 new life with much less of her late discontent, and som>e- 
 tliing of her old belief in the faith v.'as revived as she ear- 
 nestly desired and sought that it might be. What one 
 wishes to believe one will more readily believe, and i\Iarion 
 wished to believe in Mormonism. Elder Northfield con- 
 gratulated himself that complete isolation from Gentil3 
 companionship, and a strong Mormon influence v/crc doing 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 41 
 
 their work as he had predicted. And he looked forward to 
 a time when Marion would be filled with the same zeal 
 and love for her religion that characterized her in the days 
 of lier conversion to Mormonisni. That time never came. 
 
 Day after day and week after week passed, and the mo- 
 notony of the journey increased. The women and children 
 grew very weary, and the longing to arrive at their destina- 
 tion grew intense. The men strove to make them as com- 
 fortable as might be, and tried to cheer them by songs and 
 prayers, and assurances of the happiness in store for them 
 just a little ahead in Zion. The heat of summer had now 
 arrived, and in the burning sun they slowly advanced across 
 the prairies. At last the end of the journey came, and as 
 the sun was slowly sinking in the west, the travellers came 
 in sight of the Great Salt Lake valley. Here before them in 
 all its verdure lay the haven they had sought. In the dis- 
 tance, like a silvery sheet, lay the beautiful Salt Lake. And 
 down in the valley, now shrouded in gloom from the ever- 
 lasting hills surrounding it, lay the Zion of their hopes. 
 Marion did not wonder that with their belief the Mormons 
 called this place the " chamber of the Lord in the moun- 
 tains," for it did seem like a chamber or room, so shut in 
 was it from the rest of the world. As she stood by her hus- 
 band's side, gazing with him at the promised land, now just 
 before them, she felt that, after all, her reluctance and dread 
 of entering this city had perhaps been entirely unreasonable. 
 Certainly there was nothing in the sight before them to inspire 
 one with dread. On the contrary, everything had a very 
 peaceful look, as the elders had always represented. As for 
 her husband, he took Marion's hand tightly in his and gazed 
 with all the delight and satisfaction that the full realization 
 of his long cherished hope could give him. 
 
 "Marion," said he, reverently, "thank God that at last wo 
 beheld this beautiful place, and may we go no more out of 
 it forever." 
 
42 ELDER NOKTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 Suddenly a change came over Marion. She withdrew her 
 hand from liis. 
 
 "No!" she exclaimed, excitcdl}', "do not say so! "as at 
 that moment they saw Elder Parker advancing towards 
 them. 
 
 "Marion, tell me," said her husband, "what do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " Five minutes ago this place looked to me like the abode 
 of peace. Now, as I look down there, it seems to me I see 
 sorrow and misery on the faces in those homes. I do not 
 wish to stay here forever, Henry, and the sight of Elder 
 Parker often fills me with the strajigest of gloomy feelings." 
 
 " Then we will not see him. We will walk directly on to 
 the wagons." 
 
 And they did so ; for as it was impossible to find homes 
 for themselves that night, the party had decided to camp 
 where they were, and early in the morning descend into the 
 city. 
 
 In those days the city was not composed of well-built 
 houses, but principally of small low buildings of wood or 
 even logs. It was, however, beautifully laid out, with wide 
 streets and walks, and streams of water from the mountains 
 were running through the streets. Small trees were extend- 
 ing their branches, and giving promise of beautiful shade in 
 future years. Every spot of land seemed to be in the highest 
 state of cultivation. 
 
 As Marion descended into the valley and entered the city 
 the next morning with her husband, she noticed all these 
 things. Nothing escaped her. This was to be her home — 
 probably for life. She was now in the Zion for which she 
 had so joyfully left her native country. She thought of the 
 day she bid farewell to all that had been dear to her in 
 England (save her sister), and was impressed with the 
 change that had come over her since that time. She felt the 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 43 
 
 contrast between the joji'iil anticipations of that time, and 
 the gloominess of their realization. She thought of tlie sys- 
 tem the knowledge of which had taken away all the pleasure 
 of her religion, all the brightness there had once seemed to 
 be in it, and destroyed her faith in everything pertaining to 
 the doctrines of the Latter-Day Saints. She shrank from a 
 more familiar knowledge of its workings, and weary and 
 worn-out with her journey though she was, the prospect of 
 rest did not dispel the sadness from her heart. But work 
 for the mind and body are excellent remedies for mental 
 depression, and Marion found plenty of work awaiting her, 
 A house had to be secured, which was, very difficult, for 
 each man built his own, and seldom had any one a house to 
 let. Toward nightfall, however, Elder Northfield succeeded 
 in obtaining the use of a small log house towards the out- 
 skirts of the city. It was not a very attractive place in 
 itself, but the wearied emigrants approached and entered it 
 with thankfulness that even such a shelter might be theirs. 
 They gathered to the spot all they had been able to bring 
 with them, and what they could there obtain with the now 
 faiUng resources of their pocket book, for the furnishing of 
 their home. And although used to better surroundings, 
 Marion experienced the same pleasure all young house- 
 keepers feel in arranging their first home. She cheerfully 
 made the best of everything, and exerted her feminine in- 
 genuity in supplying many a deficiency and concealing the 
 roughness of both house and furniture. When all was done, 
 she was pleased with her success, and looked to her husband 
 for the approving smile, which he did not fail to give, say- 
 ing, "Marion, humble though this all is, we can be happy 
 here." And Marion in her heart could at that moment echo 
 the words. 
 
 Early the next morning Elder Northfield set out to look 
 about the city for employment, and Marion busied herself 
 
44 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 pleasantly about her domestic duties. It was nearly noon 
 Avlien she heard a knock at the half-open door, and ap- 
 proachinoj her visitor she found him to be a small boy who 
 liad evidently made an attempt to array himself in a proper 
 visiting toilet. His straw hat, which was minus the rear 
 portion of the brim, had been carefully cut around the edge, 
 thereby alleviating in a degree its ragged appearance. His 
 hair, too, had evidently undergone the clipping process re- 
 cently, and that, too, by unskilled hands, judging from the 
 lack of uniformity in its length. The eyes were gray, and 
 the fLice, which had been made to shine with soap and 
 water, was rather a prepossessing one. A respectable jacket, 
 evidently a borrowed one, from its size and the length of the 
 Rlceves, was buttoned around the boy. Of the pantaloons 
 not much could be said, for there was but little of them vis- 
 ible, but beneath their ragged extremities were feet which, 
 though bare, were comparatively clean. The hands were 
 also clean, and Mrs. Northfield considered him quite an in- 
 teresting person, especially after he politely removed his hat 
 and proved that his conversational powers were equal to the 
 occasion, without requiring much assistance from her. He 
 was familiar with the place and its former occupants, with 
 her neighbors, and much that was transpiring about town, 
 and entertained his hostess with his information till she 
 began to weary of him. He had told her his name was 
 Johnnie Mordaunt. At last Marion said: 
 
 "Well, Johnnie, don't you think your mother vrill want 
 you at home by this time? " 
 
 "0, no; she will not miss me, there's so many others." 
 
 " How many are tlicre? " 
 
 "Well, only sixteen now, since Juba got married and 
 Willie and Tommie died of scarlet fever; but you see there's 
 four or five of us fellows all just about of a size, and it makes 
 it mighty handy when one of us wants a vacation, as I did 
 this mornin'." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 45 
 
 ''Sixteen children ! Do they all belonp; to one mother?" 
 " Why, bless you, no! There's four of 'em. Tliere's Sarah 
 — I belongs to lier, and six others are hern. Mnrtha she's 
 got four; Jemima three — darn 'em, we fellers can't have a 
 thing that they won't smash — and Mary Ann has two little 
 squalling things. We fellers, you see, aint l)ig enough to 
 work, so the women set us to tendin' their babies. There's 
 fiye of 'em haye to be run after, kept out of the molasses-jug 
 and the pig-pen, and rocked to sleep by us boys; and I'm 
 hayin' the worst of it, 'cause, somehow or other — I don't 
 know how — the young ones all take to me lately, and act 
 afraid of t'other boys. I dispect 'em of doin' somethin' on 
 the sly to make 'em 'fraid of 'em. I remember I did once, 
 but I never would ag'in, if I was goin' back thar. It's too 
 mean." 
 
 "What do you mean by saying ' If you were going back 
 there?'" 
 
 "Now you's hit it, and I'll tell you. This morning I 
 dressed the twins — they're Martha's — pulled Sammy — he's 
 ours — out of the swill-pail and cleaned him up ; heard Mollie 
 crying and found her with lier finger shut under the window 
 and a pan of milk spilt over her: got dad's watch away from 
 Jerry (Jerry he's Jemima's boy) and then started on a run 
 after Willie and Pete down to the brook. My ma and the 
 others' mas came out and scolded me for letting the children 
 go, and they say I sassed 'em. I told 'em I wouldn't take 
 care of children any more, and they said if I wouldn't I'd 
 have to get another home. So I thouglit maybe I'd find 
 some of these emigrant folks that would like a boy like me 
 and that is what I's been up to this mornin'." 
 
 " Have you called on any of the other emigrants?" 
 "La! yes. One man told me I was a naughty boy and I 
 must run home to my mother. At another place the woman 
 said, ' What a horrible looking child,' and I didn't stop to 
 
46 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 talk with her. At another, the woman took quite a fancy 
 to me, for I told her all my troubles, and I was a goin' to 
 stay with her, but first I knew in come two or three children ; 
 then their noise set a bab}^ to screaming somewhere in the 
 house and I thought I'd better get out of there. Then I 
 come here, and I've been here long enough to see your 
 children, if you had any, and I seem to like here pretty 
 well, so if you'd like to have me I'll stay and be your boy. 
 My folks can spare me out of sixteen, when you haint got 
 an}', and I'll be a fust-rate boy. I can do any kind of work, 
 and like all kinds, but minding children." 
 
 Here the boy paused, more from lack of breath to pro- 
 ceed than from any other cause. Marion really pitied him 
 in his struggle for freedom. He seemed confident that he 
 would be appreciated, and apparently thought this child- 
 less home would be benefited by his adoption. Marion 
 quite disliked to undeceive him. She explained to him that, 
 although she should no doubt like him very much, their 
 circumstances were such that they could not do more than 
 support themselves at present, and that she really did not 
 need help, as her labors were not hard. 
 
 Johnnie looked very much disappointed and surprised, 
 but was comforted by an invitation to remain to dinner, 
 wdiich he accepted, and soon proved that his troubles had 
 not destroyed his appetite. He left Elder Northfield's house 
 after dinner rather discouraged in his attempts at finding a 
 new home and somewhat inclined to follow the advice he 
 there received to return to his home and family cares. 
 
 In the afternoon another caller made an appearance. This 
 time it was a little girl, plainly but neatly clad, with a very 
 sober, pinched face,.^which would have been pretty had not 
 sorrow, so painful to see in the young, been written there. 
 She modestly explained that her name was Ella Atwood, 
 and that she lived in the next cottage. Her mother had 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 47 
 
 sent her to ask if she could be of any service to her new 
 neighbors, and would luive come herself, but Nettie was 
 very poorly that day and she could not leave her. She 
 would be glad if Mrs. Northfield would call upon her soon. 
 Mrs. Northfield promised to call, and inquired who Nettie 
 was. 
 
 " Oh," said Ella, "she is my sister, and she is going to die. 
 She was married two years ago — and I remember how much 
 William loved her, and how good he was to her ; but now 
 he has taken another wife and has treated Nettie very 
 cruelly. The elders called her a rebellious wife and coun- 
 selled William to leave her. The doctor says she has the 
 consumption, but mother says Nettie is dying of a broken 
 heart. Mother has tried to have William come and see her, 
 and he has promised to come, but Nettie says he will not 
 come till too late." 
 
 " Has your father more than one wife ? " Marion could not 
 help asking. 
 
 "Yes; Hither has two wives; but he is kind to us all, 
 though mother has not been the same since his other wife 
 came. She never sings now, and so often says to me, ' My poor 
 little Ella.' I wonder at that, for father's other wife never 
 troubles me any, only as I see mother is more unhappy when 
 she is near. Mother never goes to walk now with father, 
 because she does not like to go with his other wife. They 
 do not seem to like each other, but now she has been very 
 kind to Nettie, and I think mother likes her better." 
 
 " Have you a brother or sister besides Nettie? " 
 
 " No, ma'am ; no real brother or sister since Neddie died. 
 He was my baby brother; but now the other wife has a 
 baby, and I play with him a great deal. He is very fond of 
 me, but mother does not seem to love him at all. I thought 
 she would after Neddie died, but she never pets him. She 
 is willing I should, though, and I'll bring him some time to 
 see you if you would like me to." 
 
4.S ELDER KORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OP., 
 
 Marion assured the child tliat slic would like to sec the 
 baby — " fatiier's other ^vi!■e's baby " — and Ella soon departed. 
 
 That night Marion and her husban<l had much to say to 
 each other of the events of their first day of life in tlieir new 
 home. Elder NorthfieJd had found it more difficult to ob- 
 tain employment, with comfortable wages, than in England, 
 and had been obliged to accept an engagement which jirom- 
 ised hard work and but a small income. Marion, however, 
 felt thankful for even that, and told her husband that if 
 their income w^as small their expenses were also in the same 
 proportion. 
 
 He was not in the best of spirits, for in his intercourse with 
 the native brethren he had missed the warm, brotherly feel- 
 ing that characterized tlie saints in En-land. Religion, too, 
 which he had expected to find engrossing almost the entire 
 thoughts of the people in the city — the great centre of Mor- 
 monism, and the place chosen by God for the revelation of 
 his will towards men — was certainly not the subject first in 
 the minds of the people. Marion, too, was not at all reas- 
 sured by what she had learned in one day of the effects of 
 polygamy. Little Ella's call had left a gloomy impression 
 on her mind, which she could not shake off. 
 
 One day soon after this, as Marion seated herself by the 
 only window which looked toward tlie centre of the cit}^ 
 she saw a small i)roce3sion coming down the walk, consist- 
 ing of — first, a woman, drawing a clumsily-made little cart, 
 containing a baby; next, two other women, very similarly 
 dressed, and last, a woman, leading a very small boy. They 
 proved to be on their way to her house to call upon the 
 newly-arrived elder's wife. Among the I\Iormon women the 
 emigrants from time to time arriving in the city were objects 
 of much interest. Friendly calls upon them were imme- 
 diately in order by these fortunate females, whose domestic 
 cares did not make this impossible, or whose hearts were 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 49 
 
 not too full of their own sorrows and troubles to seek out 
 others. Marion's callers belonged to this class, and as they 
 approached, cheerfully chatting together, she thought " surely 
 these are not women whose lives have been associated with 
 polygamy." But to her surprise, as they entered and the 
 leading one introduced herself as " Mrs. Smith," she turned 
 and said: "This is the second Mrs. Smith, Ellen we call 
 her, this is the third, Josephine, and this is Mrs. Ruth 
 Smith, the fourth wife of our husband." 
 
 Whatever embarrassment Marion would otherwise have 
 felt in confronting together the four wives of one man, the 
 perfect composure of the speaker put and kept her at her 
 ease. The other wives joined the first in conversation, and 
 all were very sociable. The baby and small boy came in for 
 their share of attention, the baby's mother, Mrs. Josephine, 
 dwelling particularly on its attractions. At length one of 
 her visitors asked Marion where the other wives were, or was 
 she the only one yet ? Marion could scarcely conceal her re- 
 pugnance at the thought, as she replied, " Yes, I am the 
 only" wife, and expect I always shall be. My husband, 
 though a I\Iormon, is not a polygamist, and never will 
 be." 
 
 " Indeed ! Indeed 1 But I think you are mistaken, Sister 
 Northfield. If he is a Mormon, he is, or will be, a polyga- 
 mist." " You surprise me," said another ; " how can you 
 know what your husband will be?" "I fear you are not 
 rooted and grounded in the faith," said a third, and the 
 fourth approached her, and sitting down by her said : " My 
 dear sister, I once thought, as you do, that my husband would 
 never marry another, and I did not wish him to, but here 
 we are, four living testimonies to my mistake, and I have 
 learned better than to wish it otherwise." 
 
 " But how can women live together as the wives of one 
 mail with anything but hatred for him and each other? 
 4 
 
50 ELDER NORTH field's HOME ; OR, 
 
 Excuse me for asking, but you all seem to be very friendly, 
 and I confess it is a puzzle to me." 
 
 " Yes, I see it is, and that is not strange. We should re- 
 member that it is something the Gentiles are quite unused 
 to. And I have heard that you were brought up a Gentile." 
 
 "Yes; I have been a Mormon only a few months." 
 
 " 0, well, you will soon understand why we are so con- 
 tented in this way of living. It is part of our religion. We 
 know it is right, and the more we advance our husband's 
 interests and kingdom the higher place we shall have in 
 heaven. Women should be perfectly submissive to their 
 husbands and to the commands of their ciders. Not that 
 any of us have always been as resigned as we are now — and, 
 to tell the truth, we never have lived entirely harmonious 
 until lately. Indeed, Ellen and I used to almost hate each 
 other; didn't we, Ellen?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Ellen, "but we have overcome that and 
 are now very friendly. We both were very much opposed 
 to Josephine, and Ruth, too, and altogether we four made 
 each other and our husband a great deal of trouble, and I 
 don't mind telling you that we were censured by Brother 
 Brigham as rebellious wives." 
 
 " What has caused the change?" asked Marion, "and how 
 long have you lived so peaceably together ? " 
 
 " Only a year," the quartette replied, and then Josephine 
 took up the thread of the narrative. 
 
 " The change was caused by a little black-eyed minx of 
 sixteen, who coaxed and flirted around our husband until 
 his head was turned, and although he had declared that he 
 never would have but four wives,— and lie can scarcely sup- 
 port them and all the children,— yet a few weeks ago he 
 married this girl, and then I Avas thankful, as I was when 
 Ruth was married to him, that I was not the first wife." 
 
 " Why were you thankful for that ? " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON AI.TAR. 51 
 
 "0, don't 3^ou understand? Well, I should rcmcnihcr 
 that you are probably ignorant of a great many of our cus- 
 toms, but we will try to teach you. The first wife always 
 gives her husband all his other wives. And Caroline has 
 had to place the hand of each of us in our husband's, at the 
 ceremony in the endowment house. I did not tliink, by lier 
 appearance when she gave me to him, that she would ever 
 be so good a friend to me." 
 
 " \yell, about this last wife?" Marion inquired, for her 
 curiosity was getting the better of her disgust. 
 
 " Yes, about her I was speaking. We were all perfectly 
 agreed that no such person should come into oar house to 
 deprive us of our rights and domineer over us. In short, 
 we perfectly hated her! " 
 
 "But you were saying that Avomen should be submissive 
 to their husbands, and that religion should make you live 
 peaceably with the other wives. Wliy should you hate her 
 any more than each other? " 
 
 " She is such a chit of a thing, not much older than his 
 oldest daughter." 
 
 " Four wives arc enough ! " 
 
 " He robs us of wliat we and our children need to make 
 her presents." 
 
 "There is no room for her in the house, besides, we hate 
 to have our huif^band make such a fool of himself," the four 
 wives chimed in chorus. 
 
 ^Irs. Caroline proceeded to explain. " If she had been 
 the proper person, it would have been different. But a little 
 young thing, with no bringing up for work, and nothing but 
 her red cheeks and black eyes, winch some say are so hand- 
 some, but which look only bold and impudent to me. If lie 
 had even asked our consent, we should not disapprove so 
 strongly of the marriage. If we had consented, and had 
 been allowed to select his fifth wife, and needed her help in 
 
52 ELDER NOr.THFIELD's HOME; CR, 
 
 the house, and she were a plain, sensible woman, instead of 
 the useless doll she is, and if our liusband's circumstances 
 had been different, it might have been very well. But we 
 are unanimous!}^ of the opinion that it was decidedl}^ Avrong, 
 and we pledge ourselves to show our disapprobation under 
 all circumstances." 
 
 " But did you not feci the same with regard to your 
 husband's taking his other wives, Mrs. Caroline and Mrs. 
 Ellen ? " 
 
 " Well, yes ; that is, — I suppose we did to some extent, 
 but we have no ill feelings now about it. But this is so 
 entirely different. Such an outrage upon us all; and we are 
 resolved not to endure it." 
 
 "Yes," said another, "and the new wife is finding her 
 quarters not quite so agreeable as she expected. Not that 
 we treat her badly, 0, no! We never would, do that! But 
 we try to make her about as uncomfortable as we can, and 
 as there are four of us, w^e have met with some success. Of 
 course we do not do this when our husband is by to see it, 
 but she brings her complaints to him, and then when he re- 
 monstrates with us, we tell him of her disrespectful treat- 
 ment of us, until, really, if I did not feel it my duty to 
 harden my heart, I should quite pity the man." 
 
 '• But," here interrupted another, " we told him how it 
 would be, and I guess he does not enjoy himself quite as 
 well as he expected." 
 
 "Well, but what is your object in such a course? Why 
 not make tlie best of it, now that it cannot be helped, and 
 try to make yourselves and the new wife more happy, and 
 live on good terms with her as you do with each other? Do 
 you not think it wrong to treat her so ? " 
 
 " It would be very wrong if it had been right for him to 
 marry her. But he was not counselled to marry her, and 
 there is another man who wanted her, and had been coun- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 53 
 
 selled by Brother Brigham to marry, and that man has only 
 one wife. So 3'OU see that it is all wrong, and we are going 
 to do what we can to right the wrong. First, we mean to 
 make it desirable for her to live in some other house. If we 
 get her out of the house, that will be one important step. 
 Then we count on the help of the man who should have 
 been her husband, and if we finally get her divorced, we 
 shall then be all right again, and shall take good care not to 
 get into another such mess." 
 
 " We very seldom," said Mrs. Caroline, " speak of our 
 domestic life to others, and especially to strangers, and we 
 never would have confided all this to you, but felt it our 
 duty, as you appeared to oppose polygamy, and I, for one, 
 wished to convince you of your mistake. Now you can see 
 for yourself how agreeably we four wives live together, and 
 what a happy family we should be if only we were rid of 
 •this fifth wife. There is such a thing as carrying things to 
 excess — even polygamy." 
 
 " But we have spent a long time in convincing you that 
 polygamy is right, and almost forgotten our errand," said 
 Ruth, who was less talkative than her sister wives, and more 
 personally interested in their errand. 
 
 " Yes," said wife number three, " and I hope you will not 
 think we are asking too much, but will you be kind enough 
 to let us see your best bonnet and most stylish dress, and if 
 you have any late fashion books, will you lend them to us? 
 As you come directly from the Gentiles, of course you know 
 what are the latest styles, and here we do not get them till 
 they are old. Our husband has bought his new wife a very 
 fine suit, bonnet and all. The bonnet was made by our best 
 milliner, and the money should have been used for tlie bene- 
 fit of us and our children. The brazen-faced thing looks so 
 fine and proud, as she goes with our husband to church, that 
 we are resolved to take her down. Now with a little of your 
 
64 ELDER NORTIIFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 assistance in tlie matter of taste and style, vre can get np a 
 suit for Ruth that will be finer than liers. We will buy the 
 poods on credit, and order the bills sent in to i\Ir. Smith. 
 Ruth will look far finer than she looks, dressed equally as 
 well. She was alwa3\s called handsome, and I like to imagine 
 that girl's mortification and rage at seeing Ruth outshine 
 her, and perhaps the bills will help bring our husband to his 
 senses. Now, Mrs. Northfield, don't you think this is a good 
 plan, and can you give us any assistance?" 
 
 Marion was now thoroughly disgusted with her visitors, 
 and replied that she did not think it was a good plan, and 
 that she could not assist them, for she had not followed the 
 fashion herself since she became a Mormon, and supposed 
 that giving up the world meant giving up its fashions, also. 
 In England, that was what the elders preached. 
 
 "They preach it here, too, but they do not practice it," 
 answered one of the four. '' They all dress their last wife as 
 fashionably as they can till they are tired of her. But if 
 you do not mean to help us, after all we have confided in 
 you, we had better be going. We should like to have you 
 return our call with your husband and his other wives, when 
 he gets them." And with this malicious remark, the four 
 women, with their little ones, who had been alternately cry- 
 ing and laughing, during the visit, took their departure. 
 
 Marion breathed a sigh of relief, and mentally exclaimed, 
 *' If all Mormon women are like these, I never wish to see 
 another." 
 
 But all were not like these, as she afterwards found, and 
 many and strong became the ties which bound her to some 
 of the women of Utah. 
 
 It had formerly been an earnest wish of INIarion's to meet 
 with the Mormon brethren and sisters in public meeting for 
 worship in their stronghold Zion. She wished to hear the 
 word directly from Brigham Young and the Apostles them- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 65 
 
 selves. Of late her desire to attend such a meeting ,»as not 
 caused by religious zeal and enthusiasm, but rather by a 
 hope that in the meetings there might be something to coun- 
 teract the feeling of dissatisfaction of which she was pos- 
 sessed with regard to her experiences of Mormonism, so far. 
 She hoped that her faith might yet be renewed, and some- 
 thing of her old peace of mind return to her. 
 
 Elder Northfield, too, was eager to hear the words of wis- 
 dom from their inspired leader and the other favored ser- 
 vants of God. So they made their way on the first Sabbath 
 after their arrival in the city to the tabernacle, each antici- 
 pating a blessing from attendance there. 
 
 In the tabernacle was gathered the great body of Saints, 
 with their wives, their children, and their whole households. 
 Marion watched them as they entered, two or three, or often 
 more, wives, with their children, following the head of the 
 household up the aisle. Involuntarily she noticed the lack 
 of courtesy in the bearing of the men towards the women. 
 Those delicate little attentions and preferences in regard to 
 seats usually accorded to women in Gentile society were 
 wanting here, and they were left with the children to look 
 out for themselves as best they might, except it might be 
 some one wife who was apparently the reigning fiivorite for 
 the time. She noticed the striking effect of the great variety 
 of costumes of the worshippers, especially of the women. 
 Some were clad in the plainest and poorest of clothes, with 
 an utter disregard for taste or comeliness ; others were well 
 dressed in a quiet way, while a third class were conspicuous 
 for their evident desire to outshine their sister worshippers 
 in the display of gaudy clothing and a plentiful supply of 
 jewelry, which was of necessity of the cheaper kind. This 
 latter class showed that even the Mormon women were not 
 free from that trait so commonly considered a feminine 
 attribute. Brigham Young was the speaker, and every emi- 
 
56 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 grant eye was riveted upon him as he arose. There was 
 their inspired leader, their guide, their counsellor, their 
 ruler. In him they now beheld the man whom God had 
 chosen to receive his divine revelations and to present them 
 to his people. Henceforth his word was to be law to them, 
 and under his direction they were to devote all their ener- 
 gies to the up-building of the Latter-Day Saints. It must 
 not be supposed that all were possessed of this f.matical 
 state of mind. There were many exceptions, and Marion 
 was one of them. But she was not entirely free from the awe 
 with which her fellow emigrants listened for the thrilling 
 words of exhortation or the inspired interpretation of the 
 scriptures, as they expected to witness a display of the 
 power of 'God surpassing that they had enjoyed in the meet- 
 ings in England. But they were disappointed. Brother 
 Brigham was very matter of fact in his discourse. It began 
 with a request for money to be brought in to him with a 
 lavish hand for some public works, and an exhortation to 
 the brethren to greater diligence in laboring to support the 
 church, and ended with remarks to the women of the 
 church regarding obedience to its teachings, and to their 
 husbands as set forth in the New Testament by the Apostle 
 Peter, and instructions with regard to spending their hus- 
 band's substance for the outer adornment of their persons 
 and homes, instead of devoting it to the up-building of 
 Zion. The sermon contained an exhortation to the newly- 
 arrived emigrant to foithfulness, and was interspersed with 
 bigoted remarks to the praise of the Mormon Church, and 
 eulogies in bad grammar were attempted for the deceased 
 leader of Mormonism, Joseph Smith, and his associates. 
 Strong denunciations against the Gentile world were in 
 order, and the whole discourse though from the lips of the 
 great head of the church was far from meeting the expecta- 
 tions ol those who now heard him for the first time. Marion 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 57 
 
 was surprised and disappointed. She thought of the elo- 
 quent sermons delivered by her own husband in England, 
 carrying conviction to every heart. She thought of the 
 earnestness and Christian kindness towards all men, which 
 was noticeable in them, of the intelligence and force with 
 which liis arguments were presented, and felt tliat her hus- 
 band and many another elder might have edified and 
 strengthened the Saints to a much greater degree than 
 Brother Brigham had. - She had come lioping to be strength- 
 ened in the faitlr, but went away more unbelieving, if that 
 were possible. Marion could not confide her every thought 
 to her husband with the freedom of a few weeks ago, for 
 with his faith in Mormonism — the Mormonism as he knew 
 it in England without the doctrine of polygamy-^still un- 
 shaken, he could not sympathize with her in her disbelief 
 and dislike of what she here saw and heard. It troubled 
 liim that she could not shake off her depression of spirits and 
 again rejoice in her faith in their religion. And Marion, 
 as she noticed thib, gradually became in one respect like 
 most of the Mormon women, keeping her thoughts and 
 many of her troubles locked in her own heart. Her hus- 
 band was ever kind and indulgent towards her, and his de- 
 votion was unflagging. In their own home together they 
 spent many happy hours, and Marion wrote a very reassur- 
 ing letter to Elsie, which gave the latter much comfort, as 
 she looked with fewer apprehensions toward the future years 
 of Marion's life. 
 
 Marion's domestic duties had kept her at home quite 
 closely for the first few days after her arrival in the city, and 
 she really had little desire to go out of it, for there peace 
 and domestic happiness reigned whatever might exist be- 
 yond. She had learned enough of polygamy so soon to 
 cause her to shrink from a further encounter of its effects; 
 but she knew she must become accustomed to its sights 
 
58 ELDER NORTRFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 and sounds, and so one morning she set out for a walk in 
 the city. On one street, where the poorer classes of Mor- 
 mons lived, she passed a miserable cottage, or hut, where — 
 as was common among that class — the famil}^, large or 
 small, lived in two rooms. Several children were engaged 
 in an excited quarrel over what appeared to be a small 
 kitten. Two or three were crying most vigorously with grief 
 and rage, and struggling with each other for the possession 
 of the kitten, and all were indulging in excited and angry 
 exclamations. 
 
 At this crisis the door of the hut opened, and there ap- 
 peared upon the scene a woman, clad in a dirty and ragged 
 dress, and with features sharpened by ^ooverty and trouble. 
 She advanced to the scene of warfare and proceeded to 
 settle the difficulty by separating the combatants and dis- 
 tributing blows right and left ; then took the much-enduring 
 kitten and gave it to a small girl who had stood one side 
 and taken no active part in the proceeding. By this time 
 two other women had emerged from the house and joined 
 the group, and Marion had come near enough to see that the 
 eyes of one were swollen with weeping. Altogether the three 
 females presented anything but an attractive appearance. 
 The hard lines about the mouth, the look of misery and de- 
 fiance in the eye, and sullen, hopeless expression of the 
 whole countenance, impressed Marion vividly. They sided 
 each with those children who seemed to belong to them re- 
 spectively, and the quarrel was continued b}^ the three 
 mothers principally, the children ragged, dirty, and open- 
 mouthed, watching and listening to the angry exclamations 
 and fierce denunciations which fell from the lips of those 
 mothers who should have rebuked their children by ex- 
 ample as well as precept. Marion could hardly refrain from 
 putting her hands to her ears to shut out the disgusting 
 sounds, and hurrying past, she breathed more freely as she 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 5D 
 
 came into a street where a better class of people rcsidecl. 
 She had not proceeded far when a boy came running after 
 her, sayinp:, " Marm ! marm ! I guess you've lost your 
 pocket-book," and turning she reached out her hand to re- 
 ceive the lost article, which, however, she had not missed, 
 and another boy of about the same size came up and snatched 
 it away from boy number one. This one was much better 
 dressed than the first, and had a look and air of importance 
 as he clung to the pocket-book and said: "I was the one 
 that found your money, ma'am. I see it drop, and was 
 picking it up, when this boy that I never see afore run and 
 snatched it away from me to give it to you." 
 
 "No, he warn't pickin' it up, neither; he was pickin' it 
 open to git some money out fust, and I grabbed it then and 
 run to you, and it's all right, ma'am, if you'll just look and 
 see." 
 
 But the difficulty seemed to be in getting an opportunity 
 to " look and see," for bo\^ number two held on to the money 
 in his anger with the grasp of a miser. After a word of per- 
 suasion, however, he gave it to Marion, then turned again 
 to his newh^-made enemy, who had dared him to fight, and 
 said: "I guess you don't know who I am! I am Brigham 
 Young's son." "And I guess you don't know who I am," 
 returned the boy with ragged trousers and torn hat, and he 
 drew himself proudly up with all the dignity and import- 
 ance of a king's son as he added, " I am Brigham Young's 
 son." The brothers sibod abashed, and for a moment speech- 
 less in their astonishment, and Marion shared their sensa- 
 tions to such a degree that she stood with her eyes riveted 
 on them. At that moment she recognized an elder whom 
 she had known in England approaching on the walk. With 
 him was a portly man with strong features and a pleasant 
 expression. The former kindly greeted Marion, and stood 
 speaking with her, while his companion turned to the well- 
 
60 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 dressed boy, who was somewhat cowed now, and exclaimed, 
 " Jack, what does this mean ? What are you and this raga- 
 muffin doing here?'' 
 
 " Why, father, he sa^^s he is your son ! " 
 
 Brigham Young's face crimsoned, and the ragamuffin 
 stepped timidly up to him and said, "Yes, sir, and please, 
 sir, mother sent me — " 
 
 " Well, well, I hardly knew you, you have grown so fast 
 of late; but don't come into the city again in such a rig as 
 that. Why didn't you put on your best clothes, my 
 boy ? " 
 
 "I did, sir; please, sir, these are my best clothes, and 
 mother sent me to tell you we've got a — " 
 
 " Well, well, I can't be hindered now ; I'm in a hurry. 
 Tell your mother I'll come and see her in a few days. Now 
 run home. Come, Jack." 
 
 And here the prophet, priest, and king, the inspired man 
 of God, joined his companion, who bid good-day to Marion, 
 and walked on with Brigham Young and his favored son. 
 The other son winked and blinked to keep the tears back, as 
 he walked by Marion's side, at her request, and told her his 
 story. 
 
 " Your mother had sent you, hadn't she, to ask Brigham 
 Young to give you a new suit of clothes ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am, she sent me to ask him to come and see the 
 baby, and give her some things she needs." 
 
 " The baby ! And how old is the baby ? " 
 
 "Two weeks, ma'am, and father hasn't seen it yet; but 
 when he does, I know he'll give mother the things it needs, 
 for if it ain't crying, it'll look so cunning and pretty he can't 
 help liking it, I know. Why, ma'am, you never saw so 
 pretty a baby — such cunning faces as it makes up, and such 
 pretty little hands, and such curly hair." 
 
 " How far from here do you live ? " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 61 
 
 " 0, just out of town a mile or two." 
 
 " Has your father many wives scattered out in the coun- 
 try ? " 
 
 '' No, I guess not. Most of 'em live in the big house up 
 yonder ; but my ma says she ruther live alone with me and 
 baby." 
 
 " But are you very poor ? Is your mother suffering from 
 want?" 
 
 " 0, no ! Not now, for the neighbors have given us things, 
 and we have molasses on our bread, now, too. But mother 
 thought father ought to know about baby, and I should had 
 to a gone up to the big house if I hadn't a seen him. But, 
 0, dear! ma can't have the things now, and most likely he'll 
 forget to come and see about it at all." 
 
 The boy heaved a deep sigh, and Marion placed in his 
 hand a piece of money, which she bade him give his mother, 
 and tell her it was a reward for her son's honesty. The boy 
 thankfully accepted it, and bidding her good-bye, turned in 
 the direction of his home. 
 
 This was Marion's first personal encounter with Brigham 
 Young. It did not give her a very elevated opinion of his 
 character or of the results of polygamy. But all efforts on 
 her part to regard Mormonisin with favor, or to believe in its 
 teachings, had ceased, and now all she could hope was in 
 " getting used to it," as the elders said, and in freedom from 
 it in her own home. 
 
 That same evening the elder she had met called upon 
 tliem. Naturally tliey referred to the occurrence which the 
 elder and Marion had witnessed in company that day, and 
 Marion expressed her disgust with the system which left one 
 wife and her children in the extreme of ])ovcrty while otlicrs 
 enjoyed the luxuries of life; which caused a father to forget 
 almost his children's very existence. 
 
 The elder replied, " Ah, Brother Brigham knows what ho 
 
62 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 is about, and what is right, and no doubt this woman gets 
 all she deserves." 
 
 This slightly angered Marion, and she said, " In the Gen- 
 tile world no such ])arbarity could exist, save in heathen 
 lands, and much less be spoken of in the contented way in 
 which you speak of this poor .woman." 
 
 " Hoity ! toity ! My dear sister, you take a good deal 
 upon yourself to speak in that way. The sisters here never 
 indulge in such remarks against their leaders, but learn sub- 
 mission and obedience, and I would strongly advise you to 
 do the same, Sister Northfield." 
 
 " I will obey and submit to my husband, most gladl^^ and 
 once I was ready to blindly obey any direction or counsel 
 of any Mormon elder, but I confess those days are past. 
 The knowledge you and the others imparted to my husband 
 concerning polygamy, while on shipboard, has destroyed my 
 faith in Mormonism and taken away my happiness, and 
 Avere it not for my husband, I never should have been here. 
 I am only happy now when in my own home, away from 
 all sight or sound of polygamy." 
 
 " You will soon get over that. Indeed, I did not know 
 you were so weak in the faith, or, rather, destitute of it, and 
 I am very sorry, indeed, for Brother Northfield's sake, and 
 your own, that such is the case. I advise you, as a friend, 
 however, never to express such thoughts again, for I fear you 
 will get into trouble. You show your ignorance of social 
 life here, in speaking so boldly. You will call down the at- 
 tention of the Apostles, and Brigham Young himself, and 
 tliey have it in their power to make you bitterly repent of 
 your rebellion against your religion. That is not alb nor 
 the worst. You will lose all hope of eternity in tlie Celes- 
 tial Kingdom, and be separated forever from your husband, 
 who deserves and will have a place on the right hand of 
 God." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. G3 
 
 " It ma}^ all be as you say, and I have not said much on 
 the subject before, but in the few days I have been here I 
 have had so many glimpses of the, to me, terrors of polyg- 
 amy, of the sorrow of woman's life, that my heart is full, 
 and in my indignation at your want of sympathy, I very 
 foolishly, no doubt, expressed my feelings." 
 
 " If you have only seen the dark side of polygamy, it is 
 time you saw the bright side, and I will show it to you." 
 
 " Is there a bright side to polygamy ? " 
 
 " Come to my house and judge for yourself. I have four 
 wives, sweet submissive women, happy and kind to each 
 other, sharing the labors of our home, caring for their chil- 
 dren and each other's children, in the kindness of their 
 hearts. There are seven children, and as there are so many 
 mothers, they can be cared for with ease, and all their little 
 troubles and wants attended to. In the evening we all meet, 
 and the children, always neat and clean, indulge in a merry 
 play of some kind, the mothers fondly watching them, and 
 the father sometimes joining them in their play. My fomily 
 is my pride, and if you could have seen the welcome I re- 
 ceived from them all on my return from England, you would 
 say surely there is a bright side to polygamy. I love all my 
 waves devotedly, and they return my affection, without any 
 jealousy, believing that the more waves a man has the 
 higher he, and they through him, will be exalted in tlie 
 Celestial Kingdom. If you doubt this, I and my wives will 
 be pleased to have you call upon us, with your husband, and 
 see with your own eyes that what I have been saying is the 
 truth." 
 
 " I most certainly shall call. Elder Atkins, for it will be a 
 great pleasure to me to see such a picture as you represent. 
 I have not yet seen one woman who seemed to be happy in 
 polygamy, and I should be very much gratified to meet 
 
64 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OB, 
 
 "The rcalit.y, as you will probably find, sometime, will 
 not be near so disap-eeable as you imagine. I have known 
 women quite as much opposed to polygamy as you are, to 
 ultimately become quite contented in it. You should strive 
 to conquer your prejudices, and believe that the authorities 
 of the church are better judges of what is right and best for 
 you, than you can yourself be, and allow me to say here, 
 Brother Northfield," and the speaker turned to Elder North- 
 field, who had listened very uneasily to the turn the conver- 
 sation hud taken, " allow me to say that in my opinion the 
 sooner you and your wife enter into this matrimonial state, 
 the better for you both. T would respectfully advise — " 
 
 Here Elder Northfield interrupted him. He saw the flush 
 of unwonted enthusiasm die on Marion's face, and in its 
 place came the paleness of marble. Her quick breathing 
 and expression of pain did not escape him, and he could 
 hear no more. 
 
 He said, hurriedly, "Let us change the subject, if you 
 please. Brother Atkins. It does not concern my wife and 
 me, and never will, personally." 
 
 "As you wish. Brother Northfield; but ten years from 
 now — yes, or even five— you will not tell me so." 
 
 Here the subject was dropped, and a decided coolness was 
 felt by the three, until the guest departed. 
 
 " Marion," said Elder Northfield, as he seated himself by 
 her side, and lovingly drew her to him, " I little dreamed 
 you were feeling so bitterly about this thing. You surprised 
 me tonight, but I hope you will be more guarded in future, 
 my dear wife, for such sentiments expressed may bring us 
 into trouble." 
 
 *' Henry,, is there any danger of our being forced into 
 polygamy, as my aunt in New York intimated?" 
 
 "No, there is no danger of my ever being forced into 
 polygamy. Cost what it may to me, I will never tako 
 another wife. Does that comfort you any, my wife ? " 
 
CACrJFICI-D ON THE T^IOHMON ALTAR. Co 
 
 Marion Vv-ishcd to accept Elder Atkins' invitation, and ac- 
 cordingly she and her husband called one evening upon him 
 and his family. The cider's account was, in the main, a 
 truthful one, though Marion felt sure tlie faces of those wives 
 were not those of happy women. In rej)ose they had a sad, 
 worn expression, which contrasted widely with their clieer- 
 ful and almost gay manner in conversation. Truly they 
 were kind and ladylike, cultivated and intelligent, and made 
 a very agreeable impression upon their visitors. Marion en- 
 joyed her call exceedingly, the more so as the children 
 seemed so bright and attractive ; but as the ladies invited 
 her to repeat her call, she resolved to do so, and that too 
 when neither of their husbands were present, to learn 
 whether they were really as happy as represented or not, 
 for from the .expression of their faces she could not help 
 thinking they were acting a part. At joarting. Elder Atkins 
 said to her in an undertone, " Have j^ou seen the bright 
 side or not?" Marion answered him evasively, and they 
 wished their host and hostesses good-night and returned to 
 their home. 
 5 
 
66 ST. IVES 
 
 ing families converse from window to window, and at 
 length I was challenged myself. 
 
 " Wha's that ? '' cried a big voice. 
 
 I could see it proceeded from a big man in a big night- 
 cap, leaning from a one-pair window ; and as I was not 
 yet abreast of his house, I judged it was more wise to an- 
 swer. This was not the first time I had had to stake my 
 fortunes on the goodness of my accent in a foreign tongue ; 
 and I have always found the moment inspiriting, as a gam- 
 bler should. Pulling around me a sort of great- coat I had 
 made of my blanket, to cover my sulphur-covered livery,— 
 '' A friend ! " said I. 
 
 " What like's all this collieshangie ? '' said he. 
 
 I had never heard of a collieshangie in my days, but with 
 the racket all about us in the city, I could have no doubt as 
 to the man's meaning. 
 
 "I do not know, sir, really,'' said I; ''but I suppose 
 some of the prisoners will have escaped."' 
 
 '' Bedaraned ! " says he. 
 
 " 0, sir, they will be soon taken," I replied : " it has 
 been found in time. Good morning, sir ! " 
 
 '' Ye walk late, sir ? " he added. 
 
 " 0, surely not," said I, with a laugh. " Earlyish, if 
 you like I" which brought me finally beyond him^ highly 
 pleased with my success. 
 
 I was now come forth on a good thoroughfare, which led 
 (as Avell as I could judge) in my direction. It brought me 
 almost immediately through a piece of street, whence I 
 could hear close by the springing of a watchman's rattle, 
 and where I suppose a sixth part of the windows would be 
 open, and the people, in all sorts of night gear, talking 
 with a kind of tragic gusto from one to another. Here, 
 again, I must run the gauntlet of a half-dozen questions, 
 the rattle all the while sounding nearer ; but as I was not 
 
SWANSTON COTTAGE 67 
 
 walking inordinately quick, as I spoke like a gentleman, 
 and the lamps were too dim to show my dress, I carried it 
 off once more. One person, indeed, inquired where I was 
 off to at that hour. 
 
 I replied vaguely and cheerfully, and as I escaped at one 
 end of this dangerous pass I could see the watchman's lan- 
 tern entering by the other. I was now safe on a dark coun- 
 try highway, out of sight of lights and out of the fear of 
 watchmen. And yet I had not gone above a hundred yards 
 before a fellow made an ugly rush at me from the roadside. 
 I avoided him with a leap, and stood on guard, cursing my 
 empty hands, wondering whether I had to do with an offi- 
 cer or a mere footpad, and scarce knowing which to wish. 
 My assailant stood a little ; in the thick darkness I could see 
 him bob and sidle as though he were feinting at me for an 
 advantageous onfall. Then he spoke. 
 
 " My goo' frien'," says he, and at the first word I pricked 
 my ears, ^' my goo' frien', will you oblishe me with lil nesh- 
 ary infamation ? Whish roa' t' Cramond ? " 
 
 I laughed out clear and loud, ste2:)ped up to the convivi- 
 alist, took him by the shoulders and faced him about. 
 *'My good friend," said I, ''I believe I know what is best 
 for you much better than yourself, and may God forgive 
 you the fright you have given me ! There, get you gone 
 to Edinburgh !" And I gave him a shove, which he obeyed 
 with the passive agility of a ball, and disappeared incon- 
 tinently in the darkness down the road by which I had 
 myself come. 
 
 Once clear of this foolish fellow, I went on again up a 
 gradual hill, descended on the other side through the 
 houses of a country village, and came at last to the bottom 
 of the main ascent leading to the Pentlands and my des- 
 tination. I was some way up when the fog began to 
 lighten ; a little farther, and I stepped by degrees into a 
 
68 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 she had thought it. Undoubtedly Elder Atkins had chosen 
 wisely in the taking of his wives, and it was his boast that 
 he never knew them to disagree or exhibit any jealousy of 
 each other. He knew nothing of their heartaches, their 
 sorrows, and womanly longings for as much affection from 
 their husband as they gave to him. He knew nothing of 
 their constant sacrifice that he might not be annoyed, and 
 in his heart he believed his wives were content. Marion 
 never entered another polygamic home which seemed as 
 happy even as this, and her impression gradually deepened 
 that there was no bright side to polygamy. 
 
 Marion was quite surprised to learn that any such worldly 
 amusement as dancing and theatricals were allowed and 
 practiced by the saints. In England, although a lover of 
 dancing, she had given up the ball-room and its associations 
 for her religion, and was greatly surprised to learn that it 
 was approved of and patronized by Brigham Young, and 
 that he regularly attended the balls with his wives. She was 
 not sorry, however; for her religious scruples never troubled 
 her now, and heartily accepted her husband's proposal that 
 they should attend tlie first ball after their arrival. She 
 thought as she was dressing for this ball of the many merry 
 times she had had in England, when, with Elsie, she, with 
 a girFs love of making herself beautiful, had arrayed her- 
 self in her prettiest costume and passed many an hour in 
 the pleasures of dancing. She had supposed all such earthly 
 pleasures were past ; but here she was preparing again for 
 a ball, but under what different circumstances ! She thought 
 of Elsie as they used to assist each other in dressing, but 
 who was now so for away. She thought of whom her proba- 
 ble partners in the dancing would consist, and her anticipa- 
 tions were clouded. Finally, Elder Northfield entered the 
 room, and instead of finding her dressed, he found her with 
 her face on her pillow sobbing like a child. She had given 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. C9 
 
 TV'ny to her feelings of homesickness tliiit ni,i>lit, and thonii;]! 
 vainly trying to repress lier tears, searched for something of 
 her former finery, witliout, however, much hope of finchng 
 anytliing, for she had given everything of that description 
 to Elsie. But there at the bottom of a large box lay a small 
 one, enclosed in a wrapping of paper. Marion opened it 
 meclianically, and what was her surprise to see a beautiful 
 necklace, with jewelry to match ! It was one which had 
 been given her b}^ a dear friend in England, and she sup- 
 posed it w\as in Elsie's possession now. With the jewelry 
 was a folded paper, containing an old-fashioned gold ring 
 and these words: "I cannot take these, Marion, for some 
 time I believe you will want them. Who knows but you 
 may find them at just the right time to adorn your fair 
 beauty for some festive gathering of the saints? Wear them, 
 dearest sister, and be happy if you can." 
 
 jMarion threw herself on to her pillow then and sobbed, 
 though not entirely from grief. But at her husband's ap- 
 proach, she wiped away her tears and put on the ornaments, 
 •which she had once given up forever, as she had thought, and 
 in her youthful beauty, brightened by her ornaments, and 
 Vvith all traces of her tears vanished, Elder Northfield looked 
 at her with all a lover's enthusiasm as he said : " You are 
 beautiful, my Marion ! Take care that you make no con- 
 quests to-night." 
 
 *' Never fear, there is no one here for me to conquer," she 
 laughingly replied. 
 
 *' Nevertheless, I predict that you will be the belle of the 
 evening." 
 
 " Well, at any rate you shall not be neglected." 
 
 Elder Northfield's prediction was fulfilled in a certain 
 sense. Marion fully intended at first thought of that ball to 
 spend much of her time in cultivating an acquaintance with 
 the ladies, for she was not prepossessed in favor of the 
 
70 ET.DER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 ]\Ionnon men, ai»d intended to dance but very little. She, 
 liowever, found iH^'selfdancini^ in nearly every set with much 
 more i)lensure than she thou^dit possible for her in dancing 
 witli Mormons. Her partners, however, slic was able to 
 select, and she accepted few but very young men, for she de- 
 t< rmined not to dance ^vith any man who was liable to be 
 neglecting his wife or wives by dancing witli her. Her hus- 
 band, whom she had "not neglected," watciied her and the 
 admiration she excited, and was truly proud of her beauty 
 and grace. He had scarcel}' seen her so gay in spirits since 
 they left England, and he fondl}^ rejoiced in her apparent 
 happiness. The women watched her, too, as she gracefully 
 moved about, and some were envious of her. Injustice to 
 them, however, it: should be said that many saw with glad- 
 ness that one woman among them had not lost her youthful 
 sjtirits or her fresli young beauty by sorrow. Brigham 
 Young was there with several of his wives, and after dancing 
 once witli eacli of them, lie considered hin:isolf at liberty to 
 dance with whom he would. He sought the reigning beauty 
 of the evening, whom he recognized as a witness of the 
 quarrel between his two little sons, and honored her by ask- 
 ing her to dance with him. She refused liim, as she had the 
 other older men who had asked her. Her husband was 
 sliocked at her refusal to dance with their leader, who seemed 
 very much astonished and not a little piqued. No native 
 Mormon woman would have dared refuse a dance to the 
 prophet, even if the great honor did not make it unde- 
 sirable to do so, and Marion was slightly censured by a few 
 ladies with whom slie was on speaking terms, and later, by 
 her husband, al of whom tried to convince her of her rash- 
 ness. Slie told her husband privately tluit she did not 
 wish to dance with polygamists, and certainly not with tlie 
 greatest of them. The last hour before they left the hall 
 Marion would not dance. She wished to watch the people, 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 71 
 
 "who were a study to her in their variety of costumes, moods, 
 and manners. She did not fail to see that not all, and in- 
 deed few, were as happy as she, if their faces were an index 
 of their hearts. The " wall flowers " were very numerous, 
 and as Marion realized it, she felt guilty at having danced 
 all the evening, while so many had scarcely danced at all. 
 Many of them looked much more as if they had come to a 
 place of mourning than to a place of amusement. Marion 
 watched the long rows of women as they sat by the wall 
 talking sadly together in twos and threes. There was no 
 life, no animation, no cheerfulness, and, Marion thought, no 
 hope on their faces. They could sit there and see their hus- 
 bands, once so devotedly dancing attendance upon them, 
 but now apparently unconscious of their existence, all ab- 
 sorbed in the charms of a later wife, or some maiden who 
 has captivated the truant husband's fancy, and who would 
 eventually possess a place in his home as well as his heart. 
 AVhat wonder they looked with sadness upon the scene and 
 upon their own future? What wonder that every spark of 
 hope and joy had died in their hearts ? Why should they 
 not solace themselves with the only comfort the ball-room 
 gave them — the opportunity to tell each other their sorrows 
 and comfort each other? Among this class at last Marion 
 espied her callers, the Mrs. Smiths, or at least three of them, 
 Caroline, Ellen, and Josephine ; but where was Ruth ? The 
 former three were eagerly watching some of the dancers, and 
 at last Marion, with difficulty, recognized Mrs. Ruth dancing 
 with a man whom, on inquiry, she learned was her husband. 
 Evident! 3^ the suit which was to eclipse the bride's had been 
 manufactured, and Ruth was resplendent in it, and appa- 
 rently had regained something of her former favor with her 
 husband. Now, where was the black-eyed destroyer of the 
 family peace ? Marion inquired, and she was pointed out 
 to her, dancing very contentedly with a much younger man 
 
72 ELDER NORTHFIELD's IIOMI: ; OR, 
 
 than y.r. Smith. This v;as the man who " sliould have been 
 licr liusband," and the lour first wives were a little chagrined 
 to see how little taken down the fifth was at Ruth's fine 
 appearance. Sh.e manifested no resentment, no sense of 
 neglect by her husband, or, indeed, any other emotion con- 
 cerning the matter, and apparently was enjoying the evening 
 very much. The sequel to this story may as well be given 
 here. The plan of the four wives worked well, too well for 
 the happiness of three of them, for Ruth became again the 
 reigning favorite, something very singular in Mormon life, 
 but resulting partly from a quarrel between the last wife 
 and the husband, and partly from Rutli's great effort to 
 attract and please. The man upon whose help the wives 
 counted did not fail them, and the result was, as they hoped, 
 a divorce, which could always be obtained by paying Brig- 
 ham Young ten dollars. But now a new trouble arose, for 
 Ruth received all her husband's attentions to the entire 
 neglect of the others. These attentions, however, were 
 abundantly offset by the persecutions of the jealous sister 
 wives, who had placed her in that position. 
 
 But to return to the ball room. Marion liad not seen her 
 friend Carrie since their arrival in tlie city, and she was 
 quite curious to know how she succeeded in carrying out 
 her doniestic plans. Carrie was here to-night dancing nearly 
 every figure. At last Marion found an opportunity to speak 
 with her, and the young wives were soon interchanging ac- 
 counts of life in Zion. It seemed from Carrie's tale that the 
 proverb was verified, which says, "The course of true love 
 never did run smooth." " I never was so surprised in my 
 life," she said, "as I was at the way Elder Parker's otlier 
 wives received me. They would hardly speak to me, and 
 when I attempted to assert my right as mistress of the house, 
 they laughed at me and called me a child, and as such they 
 have treated me ever since. They send me on errands, and 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 73 
 
 somehow or other they make me go. T have nothing to 
 say about how things shall go in the house, for when I gave 
 any directions about anything they would proceed to work 
 in just an opposite way. For instance, if I said we would 
 liave certain dishes for dinner, they immediately cooked 
 something else. If I try to cook anything myself, they send 
 me away, telling me they will do the cooking, and I mny 
 wash dishes, sweep, etc., for that is little girls' work. If I 
 attempt to speak when we have callers, they immediately 
 commence talking and drown my voice. In short, they 
 treat me in such an insulting way that I am miserable, and 
 •why should they do it? I have never done the least thing 
 in the world to injure them." 
 
 " Only to win their husband's affections," said Marion. 
 
 Carrie opened her eyes in astonishment at this, but did 
 not reply. Marion inquired, " But why do you not go to 
 your husband with your troubles and have them righted by 
 his interference ?" 
 
 " I have been to him and he tried to set things right, but 
 they made him believe that I mistook even their kindness 
 to me for ill-treatment, and now he says if I get into trou- 
 ble with the other wives I must fight it out. He does not 
 believe in interfering in such matters. But there is one way 
 that I hope will bring me out of my troubles. I have half 
 persuaded him to give n^e a house to niyself, and even if I 
 don't see so much of him, I shall not be tormented by his 
 wives. I think he will do this for me, for he is very fond 
 of me, you know." 
 
 " Well, Carrie, I hope he will do so for your sake, and for 
 the sake of the other wives, for I reall}" pity you and every 
 other woman who is not the onl}^ wife." 
 
 Elder Parker soon came up to them, and after a few mo- 
 ments general conversation, they separated and returned to 
 their homes. And thus had passed Marion's first evening 
 
74 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 in piililic pocicty of Salt Lake City. After all, as she laid 
 aside lier ornaments and tliouglit of Elsie, she felt that she 
 •would give all the pleasure of a hundred such evenin^is for 
 one quiet hour with her sister. But she never could have 
 Elsie again, and she must not think of her so much. She 
 had given up all for her husband, and did not regret the 
 sacrifice. 
 
, SACRIFICED ON THK MORMON ALTAR. 75 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SINCE her aunt had told her something of the early his- 
 tory of her friend, Elder Parker's first wife, Marion 
 wished to visit her for her aunt's sake, and, if possible, be 
 of some service or comfort to her in her trouble. 
 
 She had been in the city several weeks, however, before 
 an opportunity was presented. But one day some acquaint- 
 ances were going out into the country, and as their way was 
 directly through the little village where she had learned that 
 the forsaken wife lived, she accompanied them as far as the 
 village, which was but a few miles out of the city. 
 
 She inquired of the villagers for the cottage of Mrs. Parker, 
 and following the directions received, she made her way to 
 the poorest dwelling place the village contained. Her own 
 humble home seemed elegant by comparison. This one 
 seemed scarcely more than a hut, with its low roof and two 
 small windows. The yard was the redeeming feature of the 
 place, for it was swept free from litter, and the grass was grav- 
 ing with all the thrift and verdure of the Salt Lake Valley. 
 There were white cotton curtains at the windows, which, if 
 ragged, were very clean, and pressed against the window 
 panes were two small, pinched faces, with pale cheeks and 
 large black eyes, which, with the locks of raven black hair 
 that hung in a long curly mass down the shoulders of the 
 girl, and the gaunt wistfulness of the boy, gave them a look 
 of weirdness. Marion's summons was answered by the 
 mother, a counterpart of the girl, except that the black eyes 
 were sunken, the jetty locks abundantly streaked with grey, 
 
76 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 althon^rli tlic v.-omnn Imd not yet passed her youth ; tlie thin 
 face had lines of misery and sorrow on it, and, altop^ether, 
 slie had tlie ap;)earance of more wretcliedness than Marion 
 liad ever seen on tl)e face of woman. Iler eyes liad a lumted 
 look, and had a Ldeam of wildness in them tliat made Marion 
 feel almost afraid of her. She very coldly but courteously 
 invited her visitor to enter and be seated, offering her the 
 only whole chair in the room. Marion ftlt that she was con- 
 sidered an intruder, and hastened to apologize for her visit 
 by referring to her aunt in New York, and saying she had 
 come hoj)ing to cheer and comfort her, as she knew her aunt 
 "Nvould gladly do, if it were in her power. She spoke of the 
 love and pity with which her aunt had referred to the friend 
 of her earlier days, and then it was that the cold stony look 
 on the woman's face gave place to a softer expression, and 
 pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, she wept without re- 
 straint. The little ones looked astonished and frightened, 
 as though tears were strangers to their mother's eyes. 
 
 Marion gently stroked the bowed head, with its wealth of 
 jetty and silvery hair, and said, " Forgive me, if I have made 
 you sad. O, what have I done ! I sou.ght to comfort you, 
 and I have only added to your grief." 
 
 "You have comforted me, do not think you have not. 
 These tears are the first I have shed for many a month, but 
 somehow the}' relieve my aching heart. Some of my misery 
 seems to have gone with them. To know that one of my 
 former friends, one of the friends of my happier da^'S, even 
 one whose counsel I heeded not, whose kind, loving entreaties 
 I resisted, and thus ruined my life, both in this world and 
 in the next — that she remembers me is a comfort, indeed. 
 But tell me of little Lillian, the child I loved so, and whose 
 nurse I was for tliree years. Let me think — how many years 
 have passed since then? Sometimes I am confused and 
 can't remember; but isn't she nearlv grown_, almost a young 
 kdy?" 
 
SACRIFICED ON TKE MOHMON ALTAR. 77 
 
 "She was quite grown, and a beautiful irirl, my clear 
 friend ; but a few months ago sl)e w^is laid in tb.e grave." 
 
 An expression of sadness came over the poor woman's 
 face, but it was onl}^ momentary, and she remarked : 
 
 " There is nothing for which to mourn in that. I envy her 
 the assurance that her child can never suffer a wretched 
 womanhood. Perhaps I am wicked, but I often think as I 
 look at my Edith, I would thank God to take her away from 
 all misery and wickedness. And I have had times of terri- 
 ble temptation, when I think I have hardly been myself, 
 and have prayed God to keep me from doing anything dread- 
 ful. But what am I saying,'' she cried, excitedly, "and 
 whom am I saying it to? Are you a Mormon woman or are 
 you a Gentile? Gentiles seldom come here ; but you do not 
 look like the Mormon women. You look young, fair, and 
 happy, except as I see your pity for me in your face." 
 
 " I am a Mormon woman, and yet I am not a Mormon, 
 for I do not believe in their religion now, although I did be- 
 lieve it once, before I knew polygamy was a part of it. I 
 have lately come from England with my husband and twin 
 sister, whom I wish you might see." 
 
 Marion sought to interest her in other topics than her own 
 troubles. 
 
 " Elsie is almost the image of the lost Lillian, aunt Wells 
 says, and she has come to make her home with her. Aunt 
 wanted me to remain with her, too, but — " 
 
 "And why didn't you ? Why have you come to this in- 
 fernal place — this hell upon earth ? Why have you come to 
 a place where women are little better than slaves; yes, even 
 worse than slaves ; where not their bodies, perhaps, but their 
 very souls, their hearts, are cruohed ? Why were you de- 
 luded by their fanatical teachings and their falsehoods? 
 Where and what is your husband? " 
 
 " He is in the city, and he is a Mormon. He still believes 
 in the religion." 
 
78 ELDER XORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 "Then God i^ity you! for he will break your heart some 
 day, as mine has been broken." 
 
 " No, my friend," said ^Marion, though at the thought her 
 heart sank, " my husband will never forsake me. A kinder, 
 truer, nobler man never lived, and he has rej^eatedly prom- 
 ised me, by all that is sacred, nev«r to take another wife." 
 
 "And you believe him ! " exclaimed the woman. 
 
 "Yes, I believe him. I know others have been deceived, 
 and many a man has made such a vow only to break it, but 
 my husband is not like other men. He will be true to me, 
 I know. He does not believe in polygamy himself, although 
 a devoted Mormon in other res])ects." 
 
 "My poor child, poor child. I wish I had the same faith 
 for you that you have for yourself. Now I see the secret of 
 your happy face. You have hope. Other Mormon women 
 have no hope. God grant you years of just such security as 
 you feel now. I would not destroy your fiith in your hus- 
 band and make you unhappy, but I have known men just 
 as noble and good, as you say your husband is, when they 
 came here, but I never knew one to remain many years noble 
 and good. When I married Elder Parker, I believe no nobler, 
 more honorable man, than he, ever lived. He was deceived 
 and deluded into believing in Mormonism, but he promised 
 me never to enter into polygamy, and I believed him, and 
 sacrificed everything for him. Look at me now, friendless 
 and alone ; look at my children, look at our home, and tell 
 me if you wonder that I have no faith in the promise of a 
 Mormon." 
 
 " Have you no friends in the village? " IMarion asked. 
 
 " Not an open friend. No one dares to have much to do 
 with me, for fear of getting into trouble, and I dare not 
 speak unguardedly, for the same reason. But still I am 
 not entirely forsaken, for the people show me great kind- 
 nesses, secretly. I have for years kept my sorrows locked 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MOHMON ALTAR. 79 
 
 in my own heart, and now it seems sucli a comfort to have 
 one to sympathize with me, that I can liardly refrain from 
 intruding my sorrows upon you, and asking you to help me 
 about a matter that gives me some hope for my children. 
 I need a friend, and if you will be that friend to me, God 
 will reward you." 
 
 " I will be your friend, and will do anything in my power 
 for you, and in return I hope you will have perfect confi- 
 dence in me, and tell me anything that it will comfort j^ou 
 to confide in me. Tell me of your life and troubles here, 
 if you will." 
 
 " First, let me send my little ones away, for God knows 
 they are sad enough, at best, without hearing their mother's 
 troubles." 
 
 She sent her children to play in the garden, and then re- 
 sumed: 
 
 " I was alone in the world, my father and mother being 
 dead, and my only brother, who, though very fond of me, 
 was in California, and is there still. Your aunt gave me a 
 home and employment in her family, caring for and teach- 
 ing her little girl. She made me very happy, treating me 
 more like an elder daughter than like a governess. She cul- 
 tivated my taste for music and books, and with her I went 
 into the society in which she moved. There I met a man 
 with whom I might have been this day living a happy wife. 
 I know now that my heart was not wholly my own, though 
 I would not, at the time, have admitted it, even to myself. 
 But Mormonism was then agitated in New York, and, con- 
 trary to Mrs. Wells' advice, I went with some young friends 
 to their meetings, at first purely from curiosity concerning 
 them. 
 
 " But there was something about their religion and their 
 earnestness, that fascinated me, I do not know what. It 
 seems to me now that I could not have been in my right mind. 
 
80 ELDER NCRTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 " I soon l)ccame acquainted with Elder Parker, a hand- 
 some young preaclier, and my acquaintance with him grew 
 into an engagement to marry him, not, however, without hit; 
 most solemn promise never to enter into i)olygamy. 
 
 *' When Mrs. Wells knew this, she tried by every means 
 in her power to dissuade me from my })urpose. She told 
 me then that the young man of whom I spoke had asked 
 her permission to pay his addresses to me. But it was all 
 too late. I was completely infatuated with my new religion 
 and my new friend. I lell my old friend and benefactor with 
 tears, and it seemed to me I could hardly part with darling 
 little Lillian ; but I came to Salt Lake City and married 
 Elder Parker. He was very devoted to me, and I felt sure, 
 as you do now, that though other homes were polluted by 
 polygamy, mine never would be. But by and by he be- 
 gan to be out evenings a great deal, and v»'hen I asked him 
 where he had been, he evaded re])lying. He seemed to grow 
 6o cold, too, in his manner towards me, and, after a while, 
 he never played with our baby, or noticed him at all. If he 
 cried, instead of taking him up and amusing him, as he had 
 done, he would take his hat and leave the house. ! the 
 sadness of my heart then, as I feared I was losing my hus- 
 band's love. How I tried with all my power to win him 
 back to me! How I exerted myself to perform a thousand 
 little offices of love for him, as only the most devoted of 
 wives will do ! But he never knew it. He appreciated none 
 of my kindness and devotion to him. Still, I did not dream 
 that he had so soon forgotten his vow as to be seeking another 
 wife. The truth was thrust upon me rudely enough. Ono 
 of those creatures, who, being miserable herself, wished to 
 see all other women miserable, said to me one day, ' How- 
 soon is your husband's other wife coming to live with you ? 
 He has been courting her quite long enough, I should think.' 
 
 *' I told her she was altogether mistaken, my husband was 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 81 
 
 not thinking of taking another wife. We hoth became some- 
 what excited, and ahnost quarrelled, and she left me. 
 
 "After she had gone, 1 began to think of what had passed, 
 and O! the misery of that hour, dreading to hear my hus- 
 band's footsteps, yet longing for him to come and tell me 
 my fears were groundless. Hundreds of little actions and 
 circumstances, before unnoticed, recurred to me, all lending 
 to awaken my fears that my visitor had spoken truly. 
 
 '• Why had I been so blinded before ! And ere the sun had 
 set I felt almost sure, as it went down and its brightness 
 faded, tliat all the brightness of my life had faded with it. 
 But not quite sure: hope was not quite dead. At first I 
 tliought I would demand of my husband where he spent 
 his evenings; then I resolved to wait and watch; but I did 
 not have to wait long, for that very evening he coldly and 
 cruelly told me that he had decided to take another wife. 
 Then my heart turned to stone. I felt as though it were 
 another woman asking him how he could break his vow so 
 solemnly made. He answered 'that that was not now bind- 
 ing upon him, as the elders, ajiostles, and even Brigham 
 Young, had plainly assured Inm that it was his duty to take 
 raiother wife and live up to his privilege, as his circum- 
 stances were good, and that by so doing he would exalt both 
 liimself and me in the Celestial Kingdom. An earthly prom- 
 ise was inconsiderable compared to the duty of obeying 
 lieavenly laws. He was only perforniing a duty which was 
 painful to him, as Avell as to me, and tlie less said about it 
 the better. Then my anger rose, and never was a woman 
 jnore enraged than I. For the moment I was in a periect 
 frenzy of madness. I asked him wljy, if it was only a ])ain- 
 ful duty to take a second wife, lie did not take her at once 
 without neglecting his other wife week irfter week, and 
 giving her only cold and often unkind words and devoting 
 his entire time to the new wife. I told him that the alacrity 
 6 
 
82 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 with which he dressed himself with the utmost care, the 
 pleasure noticeable in his preparation to visit his betrothed, 
 and his constant attendance upon her, showed that he was 
 performing this painful duty with commendable cheerful- 
 ness. Indeed, I said I never knew him to perform a painful 
 duty so cheerfully, and I thought God would reward him, 
 though not in the way he expected. I told him he was a 
 base hypocrite to pretend that it was his duty. I told him 
 that I regretted the day I ever met him ; I regretted the day 
 I was born ; he had ruined my happiness forever. My anger 
 then gave way to grief, and I burst into tears, and kneeling at 
 his feet, begged and plead with him by the memory of our 
 former happy life and home, by the love which I knew^ he 
 had borne me and our boy, by all that was sacred in family 
 associations, not to bhght my life. I asked him to forgive 
 my angry words and love me again and me alone. I prom- 
 ised him that no earthly means should be unused by me to 
 make his life and home happy. It seems as though no man 
 could have been cruel enough to refuse such pleading. But 
 this man was. He coldly told me to get up and not behave 
 in that manner ; such tragic scenes would have no effect on 
 him. I then rose from my knees and cursed him. I told 
 him that I hated him more than I ever loved him. I said 
 I would rejoice to see him suffer as he had caused me to 
 suffer. But I told him I would thwart his plans. He never 
 sliould have a second wife w^hile I lived, for I never would 
 place the hand of another woman in his in marriage cere- 
 mony, and I knew^ that was an essential part of the service. 
 My reason was not jealousy then, for my love had all turned 
 to hate, and it was my very hatred towards him that 
 prompted mv wish to give him all the trouble in my power. 
 That was very little, however, as it proved. He then, pale 
 with wrath, ordered me to my room, and threatened that I 
 should find myself in greater trouble if I behaved in that 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 83 
 
 way. I replied tliat there could be no greater trouble, that 
 death itself would be happiness compared with it, but that I 
 was glad that he had suggested my leaving the room, as I had 
 polluted myself and innocent babe long enougli by remain- 
 ing in the room with such a devil as he — yes, I used the 
 word; no word could be bad enough to express my hatred 
 of him — and catching my babe in my arms I darted from 
 the room. As I passed him, he raised his arm, I think, to 
 strike me, but he did not. I wished he would — I wished he 
 would strike me dead. I went to my room, and there re- 
 mained the most of the time for a week. I prepared my 
 husband's meals as usual, but never joined him at the table. 
 He did not see me or my boy during the week. He proba- 
 bly never missed us, so engrossed was he in the attentions 
 to his new duty. I was sure, however, that he could never 
 marry without first divorcing me, for I would never give 
 him a wife, and I knew he Avould dread the publicity and 
 talk a divorce would occasion. None but a Mormon woman 
 could know what I suffered. I cannot tell it. No human 
 tongue can tell. I felt forsaken by man and by God. I 
 hated everybody. I hated God, and at times, even my little 
 boy. I think tliere was never a woman whose heart was 
 more full of misery and fiendishness than mine was then. 
 I was a Mary Magdalene, but never have I, and never can 
 I, by the casting out of the wickedness within me, become 
 the gentle woman she became. My heart was hardened 
 never to soften. I might say I have no heart. Well, in 
 about a week my husband called me to come down from 
 my room. I went. He had just come in apparently, and 
 was dressed iu a new suit of fine broadcloth. He presented 
 a very elegant appearance. Beside him was a young woman, 
 also well dressed, and very good-looking. She, however, ap- 
 peared nervous and timid. He presented me, then, to his 
 second wife, and delivered a little speech regarding kind- 
 
84 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 ness in the flimil}^ and the courtcs}^ due from one "wife to 
 another, and ended b}^ saying lie hojjcd I Avould do my duty 
 as a faithful wife should under the circumstances. It seems 
 that he dreaded the pubhcity that he feared might be given 
 to our affairs, and the reproach of having a rebellious wife, 
 and had flown to Brother Brigham for counsel. He was 
 then in good favor with Brigham, and ic was arranged the 
 ceremony should be performed without my assistance, on 
 the plea that as I had so wantonly disgraced my religion 
 and marriage covenant, I was no longer worthy to be con- 
 sidered Elder Parker's wife, and that he sliould then for the 
 time being be considered a single man and be married as 
 one. But if I afterwards came to terms and submission, as 
 no doul)t I would when I found resistance useless, then I 
 was to be reinstated in my position as first wife, and thus 
 all disagreeable remarks and notoriety would be avoided. 
 Brigham was very accommodating towards my husband, 
 and were it generally known, no doubt he would have gotten 
 himself into trouble, for many women would willingly be 
 temporarily divorced to avoid the terrible ordeal of giving 
 her husband another wife. 
 
 " ' Yes,' I said, ' I will do my duty towards her and towards 
 you, too. I will send you where you belong and will pre- 
 vent her from ever feeling the misery I feel now. If I had 
 seen you die when I loved you and you loved me, that would 
 have been no trouble. O, yes, I will be good to her,' and I 
 shudder to tell it, but wliile sjieaking I had seized a lo:ided 
 revolver, which my husband kept in a corner of an old secre- 
 tary near me, and was raising it to aim at his liead, v/hen I 
 seemed to realize what I was doing and I threw it on the 
 floor, and was darting from tiie room, wlien he seized me and 
 dragged me to my room, hurting and bruising me severely. 
 He locked me in with my child. Days passed, and I scarcely 
 touched food or drink. A scanty allowance of bread and 
 
BACFvIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 85 
 
 water was doled out to ns daily, but my babe ate most of 
 it, for I could not eat. God only knows wby or bow I was 
 again kept from a terrible crime. I could not bear, as my 
 beautiful boy played around me in bis cbildisb innocence, 
 or slept in my arms so pure and sweet, to tbink tbat he 
 would grow up to break some woman's heart — to change, 
 perhaps, from a kind, honorable man to a man like what 
 his father now was. 
 
 " I wanted always to think of him as pure and innocent 
 as he Avas then ; I could not if he grew up. Now, if he died, 
 God would take him, and he would eternally be pure and 
 free from sin and misery. 
 
 " I had a bottle of laudanum in my room, and was almost 
 irresistibly filled witli an impulse to give him one last, long, 
 eternal sleep. But God, if he had forsaken me, had not for- 
 saken my boy, and something stayed my hand. And lest 
 I should yield to temptation, I threw the bottle from my 
 window, and saw it shivered to atoms on tlie stones below'." 
 
 Here the speaker paused and pressed her hands to her 
 burning brow. Then she pressed one hand to her heart, and 
 Marion feared she would faint. 
 
 " My poor friend," she said, " don't tell me any more. It 
 is hurting you." 
 
 "0, don't stop me! don't stop me!" she cried. "You 
 don't know what you do. I must tell all. I WMst tell it all 
 for their sakes," as she pointed towards the garden, where 
 her children had gone. " Have you seen a large brick house 
 on the side of one of the mountains, just out of the city? " 
 
 Marion replied affirmatively. 
 
 " Do you know what that building is ? " 
 
 " No," said Marion, " 1 do not." 
 
 " Then I will tell you, for I know. It is where they carry 
 the women when their ndseries, and sorrows, and unuttcr- 
 a.ble agony of mind robs them of their reason, "\^^hen Brig- 
 
86 ELDER noktiifield's homz ; OH, 
 
 ham Young, by inculcating a system and religion that he 
 says comes from God into the minds of his dupes, has ruined 
 the lives, the hopes, the reasons of his subjects, one by one, 
 he kindly provides a place where they can be cared for, away 
 from the rest of mankind, where they will cease to annoy 
 their unfortunate friends. 
 
 "His generosity is vSo great that the insane asylum is free 
 to all, and its annual expenses are met by tithing the peo- 
 ple to an amount far greater than its expenses. Any surplus, 
 however, goes to the Church, and as Brigham is the Church, 
 you see he is very generous. 
 
 "Well, after I saw^ the laudanum bottle in a thousand 
 pieces, I remember nothing more till I found myself inside 
 that building. When you come there 1 will take you into 
 my room, for I shall go there again, I think, before long. 
 You will come, too, though not for man}* years ; but you arc 
 a Mormon's wife, you know." 
 
 Marion was now thoroughly frightened at the woman's 
 words and manner, and tried to quiet her, asking her to 
 finish her story at some other time, but she would not be 
 interrupted, and went on. 
 
 '• They were kind to me there, and after a while I realized 
 that my baby was not with me. I asked for him, and they 
 promised that next day he should be brought to me. And 
 he was, but where he had been meantime I did not know, 
 and do not to this day, nor how long I had been there. I 
 think, however, not many weeks. The keepers are very care- 
 less there about keeping doors and gates locked, and one 
 evening I wandered out unnoticed, and walked on and on 
 ■with my boy, till I came to this place. A kind man, now 
 moved away from here, befriended me and took me into his 
 house, and his wife cared for me and nursed me through a 
 sickness, during which I came near to death's door. When 
 my strength began to come back to me, they came and laid 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 87 
 
 in my arms my little babe — my Edith. From that time I 
 have lived for my children's sake, and I have hope for them. 
 When I recovered I took this cottage, or hut, as it is, in com- 
 parison to my former home, and the people of the village 
 have very kindly given me employment enough to barely 
 support myself and children. They can do no more, for 
 they are poor themselves ; besides they fear the wrath of 
 Brigham Young. Many of these women are kind and piti- 
 ful to me in secret, but their husbands warn them against 
 me, as I am regarded a rebellious woman. I do not, or, 
 rather, have not cared what I did or said to influence any 
 one, Mormon or Gentile, against Mormonism, and they fear 
 my influence somewhat, poor as I am. But I must say that 
 I have opened my door in the morning and there found a 
 pile of wood which I know no woman brought. I have 
 found my house repaired, and by no woman's hands, on re- 
 turning from a day's work out. I have found food and warm 
 garments for my children on my doorsteps, and tracks of 
 large feet in the snow near the door. I have been overpaid 
 repeatedly for work by the Mormon men. Yes, thank God, 
 there are some whose natural humanity and kindness of 
 heart even Mormonism has not destroyed. I hate to think 
 of the time when these men will have lost all the better part 
 of their natures. 
 
 " But I must hasten with my story. The authorities at 
 the asylum supposed I had returned to my home, but did 
 not trouble themselves to ascertain positively. So Elder 
 Parker did not know I had left the asylum till my babe was 
 several weeks old and I was established in my new home, 
 and then he did not trouble himself to inflict his presence 
 upon me, for he was no doubt devoting all his time and at- 
 tention to his new wife, as he had formerly be5n devoted 
 and kind to me. 
 
 " At length, however, he came and informed me that I 
 
88 ELDER NORTRFIELD's ROME; OR, 
 
 was practically divorced from him, wliich I very well knew. 
 My own course had caused this result, as my conduct was 
 bevond forgiveness. He soon left mo, and I have scarcely 
 seen liim since ; but I was told that he soon took still another 
 wife, and then I wondered how mucli that pale-faced, fright- 
 ened girl suffered. Not as I did, I feel sure, for she was not 
 the first wife. 
 
 '' I have of late lived in constant fear and apprehension 
 of being robbed of my cliildren. While Elder Parker was 
 in England, I breathed more freely ; I have not been so 
 guarded as I otherwise should have been, and I did not 
 know that he had returned until one day, a few weeks ago, 
 he came here, and I nearly fainted as I saw him look at my 
 Edith, and stroke and caress her curly hair. He then threat- 
 ened that unless I ceased to say such wicked things against 
 the Mormon Church, he w^ould punish me by taking away 
 my children. He had Brigham Young's advice for so doing. 
 I was terribly frightened, but I have since the day I first 
 took my little girl in my arms, resolved that they should 
 not grow up Mormons. My girl must never suffer as I have, 
 my boy must never cause the anguish his father has caused. 
 The friends who took me in, in my trouble, are still my 
 friends, though many miles from here. They have aposta- 
 tized and are Gentiles now, and live in the southern part of 
 the State. They have promised to take my children and 
 keep them till some emigrant parties shall pass through 
 their place, and they can send them to my brother in Cali- 
 fornia. I have heard from him through them, and he re- 
 quests me to send them to him, and he will rear and educate 
 them with his own children. He also earnestly requests 
 me to come, too, but that cannot be. All that I seek now is 
 my children's safety from this hot-bed of iniquity and misery. 
 Some day they will carry me back again to that house on 
 the mountain-side, and then my children will come to you; 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MOUMON ALTAR. 89 
 
 thoy know the way into the city ; and you will in some way 
 see tliat they are conveyed to my friend, whose address I 
 will give you. Will you— will you do this for me? " 
 
 And the woman paused, and her eager eyes searched 
 Marion's face for an answer. 
 
 '' I will with all my heart," said IMarion. 
 
 *'And you must do it as secretly as possible, lest their father 
 learn of it and prevent it." 
 
 IMarion assured her she would fulfil her trust to the best 
 of her ability. 
 
 " I do not think," said the mother, " that Elder Parker 
 cares enough for the children to wish for them, as his family 
 is already so large. I only fear that he will take them to 
 prevent their ever going to the Gentile world. Mormons 
 hate apostates with a dreadful hatred, and there has been a 
 time when to apostatize was to risk one's life. There is too 
 much to be told of Mormon life by an apostate Mormon to 
 allow him to enter the Gentile world, and only Elder Parker's 
 almost perfect indhference to me and my children gives mo 
 liope that they will escape without his knowledge. I have 
 trained them up to hate Mormonism, and have tried to givo 
 them all the knowledge of the ways of the Gentile world that 
 I could, but that is of no avail if they remain here. Edith 
 v;ill be forced to marry, and Francis will grow up a Mormon." 
 
 " But," said Marion, "since your brother has so kindly of- 
 fered you a home with him, why do you not go with your 
 children and live the rest of your life peacefully? Why stay 
 here and be so miserable? Or, if you can find a way to go 
 to New York, I know my aunt will receive you and yours 
 with joy. She would only be too happy to save you from 
 this life, and have you with her again. Won't you let me 
 vrrite to her about you? " 
 
 " No ! no ! I will not ! You must not think of escape for 
 me. I do not want to enter the Gentile world again. It 
 
90 ELDER nortiifield's noME ; OR, 
 
 would only make me more miserable. There is no happi- 
 ness for me anywhere in this world or in the next. Why I 
 am a murderer, did you know it? I wanted to take two 
 lives, and nearly did. I am a murderer at heart. He has 
 made me one. I was good once. I was kind once. I 
 never spoke an unkind word to him till — till — I told you 
 when. No, such a woman as I must stay where misery is 
 at home. My brother must never see the wreck his sister is, 
 and I would not go back such as I am now to burden your 
 aunt after leaving her as I did. Besides, I could not escape 
 and my children, too. He would find it out if I attempted 
 so much, and we should all be brought back. But if any- 
 thing should happen to me, he very likely would not know 
 it; and if he did and were told that friends had taken the 
 children, I think he would not interfere or burden himself 
 with their support. I shall not be here long. I may be in 
 the asylum ; I may be in a narrower asylum. But wher- 
 ever I am, if you know, don't let him know. I don't like 
 the way he looked at Edith. I am troubled with fear that 
 if the children remain here long he may get them away 
 from me and then they will be lost. I had rather see them 
 dead. Yes, dead !" she cried wildly, and Marion was again 
 frightened at the gleam in her eye and the wild tones of her 
 voice. At last her mind seemed to be relieved, as she had 
 told her story, and as Marion assured her that she would 
 fulfil her request, she seemed satisfied and sank back into 
 her chair exhauisted by her excitement. Marion then told 
 her of Elder Parker's last wife, of whom she was ignorant, 
 and gradually led the conversation to other subjects, telling 
 her of all that had happened in the city recently that she 
 thought would interest her. Marion secretly resolved to 
 write to her aunt, informing her of her friend's circum- 
 stances and state of mind, that she might persuade her to 
 leave Utah. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 91 
 
 She did not wonder now at her aunt's horror of the Mor- 
 mons. She felt alarmed at the wildness of the woman's 
 manner during her story ; and then how she longed for the 
 means to make her and her children more comfortable, but 
 her husband's income would scarcely suppl}^ their own 
 wants. She could only give her kind words and sympathy, 
 and amusement to her children by telling them story after 
 story, till their wan faces glowed with interest and amuse- 
 ment. But these attentions were worth more than money, 
 and the mother received that for which she hungered — as 
 she had never hungered for bodily food — heartfelt sympa- 
 thy and promise of help in the fulfilment of the greatest 
 wish of her heart. The few hours still left before her de- 
 parture passed rapidly, INlarion striving by every means in 
 her power to interest and please her hostess. The chil- 
 dren showed her their little gardens, and were delighted with 
 the interest she took in them, and altogether, that day was 
 remembered by mother and children as an oasis in the 
 desert of their lives. 
 
 When Marion and her husband sat down that evening 
 for their usual chat, she rehearsed the events of the day and 
 repeated the story she had heard, and reminded him of 
 what he had said in New York about there being two sides 
 to the woman's story. But he could not believe that Elder 
 Parker would ever treat a wife so cruelly, and thought her 
 mind was in such a disordered state that she did not know 
 what she said. Marion was grieved to find that he disap- 
 proved of the part she had promised to take in getting the 
 children away from Mormonism. But as the scheme was 
 probably but a fancy of a disordered mind, and Marion was 
 so anxious about it, he kindly promised at least not to in- 
 terfere if the opportunity ever presented itself, which he did 
 not expect. 
 
92 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OH, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MARIOX sa^ so many children of all sizes pla3ung about 
 the streets at all hours of the day that she at last in- 
 quired why they were not at scliool and where the school 
 buildings were. She had not seen one there. She was told 
 that there were no schools; that Brother Brigham did not 
 approve of educating their children. They were to be un- 
 like the world's people — not seeking worldly wisdom, but 
 wisdom from on liigh. It was sufficient for the girls to be 
 taught reading, writing, housework, and needlework, and 
 the boys sliould go so far as to learn a little arithmetic. The 
 parents were expected to teach tliem, but especially to in- 
 struct them in the religion of the Church. Schools had been 
 attem]ited, but had been broken up or given up, because tlie 
 pnrents were counselled to keep their children at ]H)m3. 
 Education was a stepping-stone to apostasy. The leaders 
 knew this, and did not mc ;n that th's stepping-stone should 
 be furnished the people. Tlie theatre, however, which was a 
 much-patronized institution, was a source of educali:)n in 
 itself to the people. For there scarcely any but Gentile 
 pla3"S were acted, and on the stage was depicted Gentile life, 
 domestic, social, and ])ublic, which liad its charms to those 
 wljo knew personally nothing but Mormon life, and doubly 
 BO to those who had come from homes pure and sacred to 
 one wife and mother to homes where j^olygamy reigned. 
 The theatre, if a ])leasure to the Gentile world, was to the 
 Mormon world like a glimpse into some far-off land, which 
 to many seemed like a paradise, to others like the home of 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 93 
 
 their earlier days, and to still others it had no meanii'ig, 
 save the amusciiicnt of the hour. 
 
 The theatre fostered a taste for reading on the part of the 
 young, but that taste could not be gratified, for there were 
 no books to be had, save a few concerning the doctrines, 
 rules, etc., of the church. If books were brought in by Gen- 
 tiles, the authorities suppressed their reading, and in some 
 cases even destroyed the books. Any one seeking an edu- 
 cation was sneered at and ridiculed ; in fact, education was 
 very unpopular. 
 
 But in spite of all this, Marion conceived the idea of 
 gathering as many children together as she could for tlio 
 2:)ur]jose of a school. She meant to be very wary fJiout it, 
 and began by having them come to her two or three hours 
 each day for the purpose of learning to sing. She was 
 actuated by a desire to benefit the children, whom she felt 
 should not be left to spend their time in the streets learning 
 mischief and viciousness, by the hope of increasing their 
 income, if ever so little, and by her love of teacliing. 
 
 She readily obtained Elder Northfield's consent to her pro- 
 ject, and easily found twenty-five children who were glad to 
 come and whose parents were glad to send them to her. 
 Little Johnnie Mordaunt was one of the number, and r.er 
 young neighbor, Ella Atwood, another. Eila by this time 
 had become a frequent visitor and often came with " father's 
 other wife's baby.'' IMarion found her young flock composed 
 of a great variety in respect to size, disposition, cul.ure, and 
 natural refinement. Some were almost unmanageable in the 
 exuberance of tlieir delight; but through the influence of 
 story-telling and singing, sne was ab.e to quiet them all and 
 send them home the first day very much interested in the 
 new institution and ready to sound the praises of their friend 
 and teacher. 
 
 The school grew and progressed, until her little home was 
 
94 ELDER XOnTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 full to overflowing, and she worked with all her migl;t to 
 teach tliem what she could. No children were ever more eager 
 to learn than they. She felt tliat she was rewarded for her 
 work by the pleasure of hearing them sing, although rude 
 and inharmonious voices were mingled with the clear and 
 sweet tones of others. They were also slowly learning to 
 read, and she gave them as much general information as she 
 could and dared. ]\Iarion took a great deal ol jjleasure in 
 her new enterprise, and soon loved many of her pupils very 
 much. She had begun to feel quite secure in being un- 
 molested by the authorities, when one day her husband re- 
 turned and told her that he had been visited that day by 
 Brigham Young and counselled to put an end to the school 
 that was in progress at his house. Said Elder Northfield, 
 " He told me that he had heard my wife was very weak in 
 the faith, and asked me if it were so. I could only reply 
 that it was. Then he said, ' I am very sorry for your sake, 
 and for hers, too ; but she must stop that school. We want 
 no v;oman with Gentile faith or inclinations teaching our 
 children. They take naturally enough to the ways of the 
 world without help in that direction.' He seemed a good 
 deal vexed with me for allowing you to teach the children, 
 knowing as I did that ycu were not a good Mormon. I am 
 very sorry, my dear, for I see that you have taken so much 
 pleasure in it, and I really think it a good thing for the 
 children; but Brother Brigham does not know what you 
 may be teaching them, and there is nothing to do but to 
 send your children home when they come to-morrow, and 
 really, Marion, I think it is for your good to do so, for I fear 
 you have overtaxed yourself. You have worked very Lard 
 —too hard for your strength, I fear." 
 
 Marion was very indignant and very much disappointed, 
 but, as her husband had said, tliCre was nothing for her to 
 do but to submit. So very sadly she parted with her little 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 95 
 
 flock the next da}^ and some of the little ones cried bitterly 
 because they could not come to school any more. But she 
 had made warm friends for herself among the little folks, 
 and they never forgot her or ceased to love her. 
 
 Soon after the closing of the school Ella Atwood came run- 
 ning into Marion's house, exclaiming, " O, Mrs. Northfield ! 
 Please do come home with me ; Nettie is dying !" Mrs. North- 
 field had become acquainted by this time with Mrs. Atwood 
 and her daughter Nettie, who had been wasting away with 
 consumption. Both mother and daughter were women of 
 refinement, and their companionship had become a pleasure 
 to Marion. She made haste to return with Ella to the sor- 
 rowing home. There the second wile by every means in her 
 poweV was kindly assisting the first in her eObrts for the 
 dying sufferer's comfort, and the first wife's child was caring 
 for the second wife's baby. Kindness and good-will reigned 
 tliere ; but it was not a result of Mormonism — it was in spite 
 of it. There are noble instincts and pure emotions whose 
 brightness cannot be obscured by even that dark cloud — 
 polygamy. 
 
 Marion pressed her lips to the marble forehead of the 
 dying girl, and the eyes opened with an eager, expectant 
 look. They feared she would not speak again, but she said, 
 "I thought he had come. He will come. I will wait for- 
 him." She closed her eyes again. Her breathing became 
 more labored. There was a sound of wheels at the door and 
 a strong young man, with a look of remorse and grief on iiis 
 face, entered, and kneeling by the bedside, took one emaci- 
 ated hand in his, pressed it gently to his lips, and exclaimed : 
 "0 God! I have killed her!" She opened her eyes and 
 smiled. She beamed on him a look of unutterable- love and 
 murmured : " I knew you would come; I waited for you." 
 
 "0, Nettie, my darling, my own dear wife! Would to 
 God I dared ask you to forgive me ! I did not mean to be 
 
96 ELDER T-TORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 cruel to you. I did not know wliat I Vv'a3 doing. I lovo 
 you and you alone. I was o:dy infatuated for a time with 
 the other '' — ;he did not say wife). " Nettie, my sweet wife, 
 can you forgive me?" 
 
 Slu- reached up her frail arms, and, clasping them 
 around his neck, drew his face down to liers. Tnen her 
 arms dropped— and Nettie was dead. But that her last 
 moments liad been happy ones there could be no doubt, for 
 0.1 her face was a look of perfect peace, and her lips wero 
 almost wreathed with a smile. 
 
 There came a time when Marion could no longer go to 
 the homes of sorrow and mourning, carrying pity and com- 
 fort with her — a time when her little friends, who came often 
 to see lier, were sent quietly away — when the rooms of her 
 cottage were darkened, and the footsteps about the houso 
 were light and voices soft and low. There came to that 
 humble, but happy home, a new light, a new care, a new 
 and strong tie, to bind yet firmer the hearts of husband and 
 "wife. And as the young mother beheld her baby boy, a 
 new tenderness came into her heart, a new joy into her life, 
 and to the father liis home became more sacred, more dear 
 for the new treasure it contained. 
 
 Marion's life in Salt Lake City had not been the happy 
 one she had pictured for herself, for her surroundings had 
 been such as to cause great sadness through her sympathy 
 for the sorrows of oth.ers. That such an evil should exist 
 under the name of religion ; that the Government would 
 ]>crmit a system so wicked to enslave tlie minds of men and 
 blight the happircss of women, and more personally tliat 
 her husband should still be blinded by a belief in a religion 
 which had proved itself so utterly devoid of morality and 
 humanity— these tilings had given J^Iarion many a bitter 
 thought, many a heartache. She longed that the scales 
 might fall from her husband's eyes, and that he might see 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 97 
 
 as she did the utter depravity of the religion she had once 
 loved so dearly ; then together they might leave this people 
 and once more live in the Gentile world. Her former lies 
 of friendship might be renewed, and the society of her sister 
 again become a pleasure to her. But of all tins she had no 
 hope. Thoughts and longings for it were all she indulged 
 herself. 
 
 But now her mind and heart were filled by her care for 
 her little son Forest. Her home, with its priceless treasure, 
 was the centre of her ambition. There she forgot the out- 
 side world, with its sorrows and disturbances, and lived in 
 a little world of her own. She became much happier than 
 before her babe was born, and their comfort and happiness 
 was increased still more by on improvement in their pecu- 
 niary circumstances. Elder Northfield went into business 
 for himself in the city and succeeded even beyond his hopes. 
 In later times Marion often accused herself of selfishness at 
 that time in driving every unpleasant thought from her and 
 giving herself up so entirely to the enjoyment of her own 
 blessings to the exclusion of everything else. 
 
 But one unselfish mission was not entirely excluded— that 
 was, the fulfilment of her promise, if ever it became neces- 
 sary, to the forsaken Mrs. Parker, with regard to her chil- 
 dren. It was far from her thoughts, however, one day, when 
 she found at her door Francis and Edith Parker, more thin 
 and haggard than ever, and wdth a somewhat ragged, ne- 
 glected appearance, wliich had not been noticeable when she 
 saw them before. She was shocked and frightened at sight 
 of them, but gave them a warm welcome, and proceeded to 
 open one of two letters, which the boy handed her, and read 
 the following : 
 
 " My Dear Kind Friend :— I cannot live any longer. I 
 am not going to the house on the mountain side. It is too 
 7 
 
large. I want rest. I want my children safe. I have tried 
 to think and plan what you shall do with them, and how 
 you will save them. I know you will save them from Mor- 
 monism somehow, for you have promised m,e, but I have 
 forgotten how. My memory is gone. But it will not be in 
 the way I save myself, I know. I have been sick, but I am 
 going to take some medicine that will cure me. I shall not 
 be a Mormon woman then. I shall not be here, but ! 
 don't let him know I am gone. I don't know where I shall 
 go, or I would tell you ; but God bless you and the children, 
 and some time, when Edith is a happy woman and Francis 
 a noble man, I will go and see them and know what you 
 have done for them and me. I wanted to write something 
 else, but I can't think what it was. My memory is poor. 
 Perhaps I will write again. The children will bring it to 
 you. Now good-bye." 
 
 There was no name signed, but Marion well knew who the 
 writer was, and realized the awfulness of its import. She 
 knew the woman's reason had quite departed, and that she 
 would, if not prevented, put an end to her life. She trem- 
 bled, but controlled herself enough to question the children. 
 She asked what their mother had said to them as they came 
 away. 
 
 They answered that she had told them to carry her letter 
 to Mrs. Northfield, in the city ; that she bid them good-bye 
 over and over again, and kissed them and cried over them, 
 and even called them back once to put her arms tight around 
 them both, so that they could hardly breathe, and then she 
 had said, "God bless and keep my darlings,'' and they came 
 away frightened. They thought their mother was sick, and 
 had sent for Mrs. Northfield to come to her. 
 
 She then asked them about the other letter, which she 
 now opened. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 99 
 
 The boy said a few weeks ago she had told him if ever he 
 went into the city he must take that letter to Mrs. North- 
 field, for she wanted it, and as he knew where she kept it, 
 he took it, put it in his pocket, and brought it with him. 
 He did not know what it was. 
 
 It proved to be a letter from the apostate friend in Southern 
 Utah, urging her to come to him, with her children, as secretly 
 as possible, that he might send them all to her brother in 
 California. It was expected that in a few weeks an emigrant 
 party would pass through the place, travelling towards the 
 West, and he wished her to join that party. He spoke of 
 her brother's kindness and love for her, and of his probable 
 disappointment if she did not avail herself of this means 
 of escape. Enclosed in this was a letter from the brother to 
 his sister, which proved the sincerity of all that the former 
 had written. 
 
 Marion felt that something must be done immediately. 
 She told the children to remain in the house, and she would 
 see about caring for their mother. She bade them on no 
 account to leave the house or to be seen at the windows. 
 She provided them with food and drink, and bade them 
 not to be frightened if she did not return to them that 
 night. 
 
 Wonderingly, they promised obedience, and Marion left 
 them, taking her babe with her. She proceeded immedi- 
 ately to her husband's place of business, told him what had 
 occurred, and placed in his hands the letters the children 
 had brought. He was forced now to admit that the story— 
 at least a part of it— that the unfortunate woman had told 
 his wife was not the fancy of a disordered brain, and that 
 the Gentile friend and brother in California were realities. 
 But the children at his house— children of a Mormon elder I 
 his wife about to conceal their whereabouts from their father, 
 about to send them privately to the Gentile world ! His wife 
 
100 ELDEll NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 instead of building up the Church performing an act directly 
 to militate against it! The situation was appalling. Elder 
 Parker's first wife insane and perhaps destroying herself, 
 and he ignorant of it and of the whereabouts of his children ! 
 His duty seemed plainly to be to inform Elder Parker of the 
 circumstances, deliver his children up to him, and advise 
 him to see that the poor woman was cared for, and this he 
 tried to persuade Marion was the right way for them to act 
 in the matter. 
 
 But she was almost frantic with grief and horror at the 
 thought, and reminded him of his promise at least not to 
 interfere with the fulfilment of her word to Mrs. Parker. 
 At last, at her earnest entreaty, he left his business, and pro- 
 curing a carriage drove with Marion rapidly to the humble 
 home of the suffering woman. 
 
 Two or three women and a physician emerged from the 
 house as they approached. They stopjDed to speak with the 
 physician and make inquiries. 
 
 '"Are 3'ou this woman's husband, sir?" said he. 
 
 Elder Xorthfield was thankful that he could reply nega- 
 tively, but said that they were friends. 
 
 *' If you were, I was about to suggest that you immediately 
 retrace your steps, as her greatest trouble is the fear of his 
 presence and his possession of her children, who she says 
 are safe with friends in the city. At least she should be 
 allowed to die in peace." 
 
 "She has taken poison," he continued, "and cannot live 
 but a few hours. She is conscious at intervals, and evidently 
 perfectly sane, which has not been the case with her of 
 late." 
 
 He would recommend that her most earnest request be 
 complied with, namely, that Elder Parker should not be in- 
 formed of her death, and that every means be taken to pre- 
 vent the fact from coming to his ears. The villagers would 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON' 'ALTAR. , , , , , 3,01, 
 
 aid her in that, and kindly and quietly give her a t)nrial 
 there. The pliysician passed on, and tremblingly Marion 
 entered Avith her husband. 
 
 Two women made way for her, and she kneeled by the 
 dying woman's bedside, but she was unconscious. She soon, 
 however, opened her eyes, and now the wild gleam of a few 
 months past was not in them, and a smile of recognition 
 lighted them, but she was too weak to speak, save in short, 
 faint whispers. 
 
 Marion beckoned her husband to approach. He did so, 
 and she turned to the woman and said, " Here is my hus- 
 band, and we have come to try and help you. Your chil- 
 dren are at my liouse, and are safe." 
 
 " Will he help me ?" And she bent her searching eyes on 
 Elder Northfield as she gasped the words. 
 
 " Yes, my poor woman, I will help you. What can I do 
 for you ? " said he, so touched by the sight that he could 
 not refuse her. 
 
 "Keep them away from him," she said, wdth great effort. 
 
 " I wdll, if possible, and will see them safe with your Gen- 
 tile friend, though my conscience tells me I am interfering 
 with what I should not, and doing wrong, but for your sake 
 I promise that your children shall leave the Mormons if I 
 can accomplish it." 
 
 " God will bless you," she said, and she never spoke again. 
 She sank into a stupor from which she did not rouse, and 
 soon her sorrowful life was at an end. 
 
 But who shall say that this woman was a self-murderer? 
 Who shall say that she was not a victim of polygamy rather 
 than of her own hand? Who shall say that the sin of her 
 death lay not rather at the door of a false religion than to 
 her charge? May it not be that a pitying God, a loving 
 Father, saw her infirmities, had compassion on her weak- 
 ness, and tenderly gave her rest and peace where sorrow is 
 
,102 ... . ELDL^ NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 unknown, where " the wicked cease from troubhng and the 
 weary are at rest? " 
 
 Elder Northfield and his wife left the dead to be cared for 
 by the kind women of the village, and hastened home to 
 care for the living and fulfil their duty to them. Elder 
 Korthfield was terribly harassed in mind. His conscience 
 reiDroached him for having promised to perform an act which 
 would be treason to the Church and to one of its ciders. He 
 considered it a sin to aid in sending any one from the Church 
 into the world, thereby ruining the salvation of the soul. 
 He was as ever a very devout Mormon, and duty had always 
 been law to him. Conscientious in the extreme, yet with 
 those dying eyes looking at him so pleadingly, those ice-cold 
 lips making one last earthly request, humanity conquered 
 his fanaticism, and he could not refuse. Little did he think 
 when he left the city with Marion that he should return to 
 take the responsibility into his own hands, which he had 
 been so shocked to learn she had undertaken. 
 
 But by the memory of that dying mother he could not 
 betray his trust, and accordingly next day arranged his 
 affairs to leave in other hands during his absence, and pre- 
 pared to start in the evening with his young charges, to place 
 them himself in the possession of their Gentile protector. 
 
 But he was saved the commission of this sin against the 
 Church and his conscience kept free from guilt, and Marion 
 was called to meet one of the greatest disappointments she 
 had ever known. 
 
 Elder Parker, in spite of the precautions taken to the con- 
 trary, learned of the death of his wife, through some means, 
 and soon proved that his indifference to her children was 
 not so complete as she thought. He learned that the vil- 
 lao^ers were about to burv her, and did not consider himself 
 under any obligation to interest himself further, but sought 
 to learn where the children were. The people of the vicinity 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 103 
 
 could only tell him they were with friends in the city, that 
 a man and w^oman named Northfield had been there, and 
 might know where they were. He repaired to Elder North- 
 field's house, arriving in the evening while he was out making 
 arrangements for an immediate departure. Marion was wrap- 
 ping up the little ones warmly for their journey, when on 
 answering the summons at the door she was confronted by 
 Elder Parker. He made his object known, and Marion's 
 hope was gone. She thought of the poor mother's anguish 
 through fear of this event, and wondered if in the other 
 world she now looked down and beheld what was trans- 
 piring. 
 
 She boldly plead for the children, depicting that mother's 
 sorrow and misery, and hoped to touch the heart of her 
 listener. She begged that the dying request might be 
 granted. She argued that he had children enough and to 
 spare, and begged that these two might be allowed to go to 
 the home so amply provided for them. Her arguments 
 were of no avail, though she was glad to notice his evident 
 uneasiness at hearing of his wife's sufferings. He mani- 
 fested much anger towards her for the part she had taken in 
 the proceeding, and she generously and skilfully contrived 
 to make it appear that she was the principal offender in the 
 case, that no blame might fall on her husband. Elder 
 Parker left her, saying that he would send Carrie next day 
 for the children. Soon after his departure, Elder North- 
 field entered. He was surprised to learn how matters stood, 
 but Marion could hardly feel kindly towards him when she 
 observed that he appeared to feel relieved, as the responsi- 
 bility that had so troubled him was taken from him. 
 Marion passed a sleepless night. Not so her husband ; he 
 could now rest, for he had a clear conscience, and although 
 he remembered with pity the dying woman, he Avas glad to 
 be honorably exempted from fulfilling his promise to her. 
 
104 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 The next day Carrie came for the children. She was now 
 in a house of her own, and was willing and ghid to under- 
 take their care. Slie was a kind-hearted woman, and rather 
 loneh^ as her husband's devotion was beginning to flag, and 
 at best was to be divided among three. Sorrowfully Marion 
 joarted with her little charges, though she felt sure that 
 Carrie would be kind to them. But one thought sadly im- 
 pressed her. They were after all to grow up Mormons, and 
 the mother's fears for them would undoubtedly be realized. 
 Not even her last wish while upon earth could be granted. 
 
 Elder Northfield was now in trouble, and called down upon 
 himself the indignation of Brigham Young and the Church. 
 Kotwithstanding Marion's attempt to prevent any blame 
 from falling upon him, the truth came out, and he was 
 called to meet in conference with the Church authori- 
 ties. He was accused of treason to the Church, and of being 
 next door to apostacy. He positively denied the latter 
 charge, declaring that he was never more determined to de- 
 vote himself to his religion than then. He expressed his 
 sorrow and humility at having allowed a dying woman to 
 persuade him to undertake an act for which his conscience 
 condemned him even at the time. He asked forgiveness of 
 the Church for the offence, as he had done of God, and 
 promised in future .to be influenced only by his duty 
 towards God and the Church. The duty of obedience was 
 then urged upon him, in living up to all the requirements 
 of the religion. Reference was made to his wife, who had 
 been the means of leading him to sin, and the strong lan- 
 guage used against her nearly destroyed all the humility 
 and penitence he had experienced. Although she had been 
 the cause of his humiliation, yet he could not bear that one 
 word should be said against her. He was reminded of his 
 lack of dignity in allowing a woman to govern his actions, 
 and urged to act upon the principle that the man is the 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 105 
 
 ruler of his wife or wives, and that his word should be the 
 law to be unquestionably obeyed. A woman's salvation de- 
 pended upon her obedience to her husband, and he who did 
 not secure this failed in his duty towards her. His spiritual 
 advisers went still farther and recommended him to take a 
 step in advance in atonement for his sin and enter into 
 polygamy. This was recommended for the benefit of his 
 wife, also, '* for," said they, '' the sooner such women as she 
 are forced into it the better. Nothing cures them of their 
 opposition to the system sooner than being forced to submit 
 to it. Besides, he was abundantly able to provide for an in- 
 creased family, and while so many men were nobly struggling 
 in poverty to support from two to eight or ten wives, it was 
 a reproach to one of his income to remain longer with only 
 one. He should see to it that he was building up his king- 
 dom. Elder Northfield could hardly refrain then from de- 
 claring his intention of never entering into polygamy, and 
 telling them of his promise to that effect. Their exhorta- 
 tions were at war with his better nature, and he felt antago- 
 nistic to them. He tried to conquer this feeling, believing 
 it was wicked to indulge in resentment against God's chosen 
 servants. He tried to receive their counsel in a proper 
 spirit. He replied that he would think of the matter. He 
 hoped thus to satisfy them without open opposition. He 
 now felt that he and his wife were placed in a very uncom- 
 fortable position. He felt obliged to tell her what had been 
 said to him, to warn her against any remark which might 
 attract attention to her views. They agreed that they could 
 not be too careful, and Clarion was very much troubled, 
 though she comforted herself by calling to mind her hus- 
 band's words, "Cost what it may, I will never take another 
 wife." 
 
 The excitement and interest in their case gradually dimin- 
 ished, although frequently persecuted by suggestions of 
 polygamy. These were a source of perplexity and torment 
 
106 ELDER NORTHFIELDS HOME; OR, 
 
 to Elder Northfield, who wished to be regarded, and wished 
 to be, a devout Mormon. But he could not think of break- 
 ing his vow to Marion, and thus blasting her young life. 
 He did not either feel that God called him to take that step, 
 though he dared not condemn it in others. 
 
 And thus time passed on and another little one came to 
 them— a second Elsie— frail and tender— a delicate flower 
 which bloomed only for a time. She learned to lisp the 
 names of papa and mamma, to wind her little arms lovingly 
 around their necks, to play in her baby glee with little Forest, 
 and then their hearts were called to mourn, for baby was no 
 more. This was their first real sorrow. That strong man 
 sobbed and shook with grief as his pet w^as laid away, and 
 the young mother felt that henceforth her home was deso- 
 late without its cradle, the little dresses, and the prints of 
 baby fingers. 
 
 Owing to the non-existence of regular mails, Marion had 
 heard from and written to her sister but seldom ; and even 
 had it been possible, her husband w^ould have discouraged a 
 frequent correspondence, for he noticed Elsie's letters always 
 seemed to make Marion more sad and discontented with her 
 present life. Elsie was still living with her aunt, and ex- 
 pressed her perfect content with everything, save her sepa- 
 ration from her sister. 
 
 Elder Northfield had long ago given up all hope of 
 Marion ever again believing in the faith, but hoped that she 
 would eventually become at least resigned and contented. 
 He was still prospering in business, and the manner in 
 which they were now able to live formed a strong contrast 
 to their humble beginning. Forest was now a beautiful lad 
 of four years, with golden hair and blue eyes like his 
 mother's. He was the joy and pride of that home. But 
 deep down in the hearts of father and mother was written 
 the memory of the little girl that died, and her place could 
 never be filled by another. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PEACEFULLY, almost happily, at times, were the days 
 of Marion's life passing now, but her clear sky was 
 darkening, a cloud was gathering, a storm was about to burst 
 over her head and well-nigh overwhelm her. For a time, 
 after the indignation brought upon them by the unsuccess- 
 ful attempt to send Elder Parker's children into the Gentile 
 world, Marion was troubled and annoyed by visits from pro- 
 fessed friends, both male and female, who labored with a 
 true missionary zeal to convince her of her remissness in 
 duty and her sinful selfishness in insisting on being the only 
 wife. Some of the brethren told her she was a curse instead 
 of a blessing to her husband, and that but for her influence 
 over him he would undoubtedly go on to the performance 
 of his duty. Marion felt to thank God for this influence. 
 She gradually withdrew herself from all society, as much as 
 was possible, save that of her friend, Mrs. Atwood, and the 
 young wife of Elder Atkins, with whom she had formed a 
 strong friendship. She remained exclusively at home, find- 
 ing her pleasure there in the home cares and society of her 
 husband and little boy. Francis and Edith Parker came 
 often to see her, and sometimes Carrie came with them. 
 
 At length and by degrees a change seemed to come over 
 Elder Northfield. His natural cheerfulness was departing, 
 and he had an appearance of mental depression which 
 aroused Marion's anxiety for him. She could not interest 
 him in conversation, and if she talked to him he seemed pre- 
 occupied in other matters. He often forgot to take his little 
 
108 ET,DER KORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 bo}^ in his amis for a frolic, on returning home at nighty as 
 he always had done, and tlie little fellow's loud demonstra- 
 tions of jo}" at papa's return fell unnoticed on his car. Oi'ten 
 did the child go to him with some request, and after trying 
 in vain to attract his attention, he went discouraged to his 
 mother with his wants. Elder Northfield sat reading now a 
 great deal, but Marion had asked him on one or two occa- 
 sions what he had been reading, and he could not tell her. 
 He was kind as ever, and at times caressed her in the ten- 
 derest manner ; again, almost extravagantly expressing his 
 love for her and calling her by many endearing names. Not- 
 withstanding this, at other times he seemed to have forgotten 
 her very existence, so preoccupied was he. 
 
 At first Marion did not appear to notice the change, striv- 
 ing by every means to make him more cheerful, but as she 
 fiiilcd in tliis, she asked him why he seemed so troubled. She 
 inquired if his business affairs were perplexing him. 
 
 He answered that he had met with some losses and was a 
 little emharrassed, but hoped to get through all right. 
 
 She tried to encourage him to think all would be well, 
 and even if the worst came, they would only be obliged to 
 go back to their old humble way of living, and that would 
 not he so very dreadful, for had not some of their happiest 
 days been spent in tliat humble cottage, where they first 
 made a home for themselves? 
 
 But he did not seem much comforted, although he fondly 
 kissed his wife and called her his comforter. As the weeks 
 passed he became more depressed, and his nights were rest- 
 less, liis sleep troubled. 
 
 One evening Marion approached the chamber where ho 
 had repaired, and opened the door unnoticed by him. He 
 was kneeling at the bedside. INIarion caught these words : 
 
 "My God, if it is possible,. let this cup pass from me and 
 my poor Marion. Nevertheless, not our will, but thine, be 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 109 
 
 done. Teach me my duty, God, and give me strength to 
 do it. But let me not bring sorrow on that loving heart. 
 Stay my hand, if thou wilt, but, God — " 
 
 Marion heard no more:- she turned and fled, her heart filled 
 with the most terrible forebodings. She caught up her boy 
 and wildly kissed and caressed him. She could not think; 
 she felt stunned. She tried to still the beatings of her heart. 
 At last she had discovered the cause of her husband's strange 
 mood. She divined the truth. As continued washing wears 
 the hardest rock away, so the perpetual influence of the Mor- 
 mon leaders had their effect at last on their victim. Con- 
 stant and unceasing, for nearly four years, had been their 
 efforts to convert him to a practical belief in the one doc- 
 trine he had never embraced. Skilful had been their argu- 
 ments and apt their presentations of Bible examples, and an 
 important point was gained when they had convinced him 
 that any man was justified in taking more than one wife. It 
 was long, however, before he could be made to believe it was 
 his duty to enter personally into polygamy. They, however, 
 accomplished that in time ; but with his intelHgence and the 
 natural nobility of his character, it never could have been 
 accomplished, except through the fervor of his religion and 
 his implicit faith in the higher authorities. His sacred vow 
 and promise to his wife was of no account compared with 
 his duty to his religion, and as it was made with a belief in 
 its righteousness at the time, he was completely absolved 
 from its fulfilment by the appearance of new light. 
 
 Without obeying the commands of God, neither he nor 
 his wife could ever enter the Celestial Kingdom ; therefore it 
 was manifestly his duty, for her sake as well as his own, to 
 obey. He had once been guilty of treason against the Church, 
 and bitterly repented it, vowing thenceforth to perform every 
 duty faithfully, as it was made known to him. Except his 
 unfaithfulness in this affair, he had been a most conscien- 
 
110 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 tious member of the Mormon Church, and now he believed 
 it his duty to obey counsel, but it involved the breaking of 
 his vow to Marion, and perhaps the breaking of her heart. 
 Within his soul raged a terrible contest between love and 
 duty. 
 
 At last a crisis came. The patience of the Apostles was 
 exhausted with the obstinacy of their intended convert, and 
 he was voted a disgrace to the Church. His soft-heartedness 
 and regard for his wife, and his fidelity to his promise to 
 her, were ridiculed, and he was accused of submitting to 
 woman's government. 
 
 Then Brigham Young interested himself personally in the 
 matter, and commanded Elder Northfield to take another 
 wife, under penalty of expulsion from the Church. 
 
 Said he, " If he will not obey, he is no Mormon, but a vile 
 hypocrite, and will end in apostatizing. We will have no 
 men in the Church who set themselves up above their leaders, 
 or who will be governed by a Avife instead of the church. 
 
 Let him go to the d 1, where he belongs, if he will not 
 
 obe}^ counsel." 
 
 Now he could only choose between obedience to the com- 
 mands laid upon him and the giving up of his religion. 
 The former involved the striking of a death-blow to his do- 
 mestic happiness, the latter a giving up of all hope of hap- 
 piness in the Celestial Kingdom for himself and her, too, for 
 he believed that outside the Mormon Church there was no 
 salvation. 
 
 One course excluded, perhaps, all happiness in this world, 
 and the other all happiness in the eternal world. Which 
 should he choose? Abraham was willing to sacrifice his best 
 beloved for his religion, and he would be doing no more in 
 obeying Brigham Young's command. Should he wish to do 
 less? Was not hesitating a proof of more love for an earthly 
 idol than for God? Might it not be that if God saw his sub- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. lU 
 
 mission and his willingness to go forward in the perform- 
 ance of his duty, his hand, like Abraham's, would be stayed, 
 and as Isaac was saved from being offered up a sacrifice, so 
 might his best beloved escape ? 
 
 So far had Elder Northfield's fanaticism carried him. This 
 Avas the power a despotic religion exercised over the mind 
 of man, blinding him to all sense of right, all instincts of 
 reason, and investing the basest of crimes with the virtue of 
 sacrifice and religious devotion. This was the religion which 
 made men morally and mentally strong, to become weak tools 
 in the hands of their leaders, — that worked upon the minds 
 of men of the more emotional and religious nature, with the 
 greatest success, making of them the most fanatical con- 
 verts. 
 
 Elder Northfield was now in that frame of mind which 
 determined him to let nothing stand in the way of duty, 
 and he resolved to obey at the expense of everything. He 
 went to God in prayer for help and strength. To him there 
 was no blasphemy in praying for strength to strike a death- 
 blow to a loving, trustful heart, no mockery in asking God's 
 blessing on his course, no inconsistency in imploring that if 
 need be his heart might be hardened, lest it fail him in the 
 performance of his duty. 
 
 His mind was made up, and as Marion had once said, 
 " Duty was law to him." He now felt a sense of relief in at 
 last being able to decide, and decide aright, even at the ex- 
 pense of his feelings. He felt that God would approve of 
 his course, and even if he did not interpose, as in the case 
 of Abraham and Isaac, yet his blessing would rest upon them, 
 and in the end all would be well. 
 
 Marion now knew that her husband had been persuaded 
 or compelled to contemplate entering into polygamy. Her 
 trust in him had been misplaced ; her faith had proved a 
 vain one. Notwithstanding his oft-repeated promise, not- 
 
112 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME) OR, 
 
 withstanding his indignation that her aunt should think 
 him capable of such faithlessness, now he was about to 
 prove tlie truth of her conviction. 
 
 The words of her aunt came back to her : " You know not 
 how almost impossible it is for a man to withstand the con- 
 stant counsels and commands to marry again. Will he be 
 more true than every other man just as honorable and sin- 
 cere as he now is ? " 
 
 She thought of the many expressions of confidence in her 
 future happiness that she had uttered, and of the never- 
 wavering faith and trust she had given her husband, of his 
 love and affection for her, and she could not believe that he 
 would consummate the project he now undoubtedly enter- 
 tained. Such wretchedness she never knew before. She felt 
 that her heart would be crushed with its load of misery, but 
 3'et she hoped. Seldom comes a time, a situation, where 
 there is no hope — no single gleam to keep the pulses of life 
 throbbing, the beatings of the heart stirring. Dark indeed, 
 even with Egyptian darkness, the hour which is cheered by 
 not one ray of light to magnify and catch at, as a drowning 
 man catches at a straw. Such utter darkness had not yet 
 come to Marion's heart. She^ knew her influence over her 
 husband, she knew his tenderness towards all mankind, and 
 especially towards herself. She knew his natural humanity^ 
 which lie could not crush out, had once, when weighed in 
 the balance with duty and fidelity to the Church, turned the 
 scale in favor of humanity, and that sympathy for misery 
 had overbalanced all other considerations, and she hoped it 
 might again. She knew his sorrow for that act, his strong 
 faith, and his conscientiousness, yet she could not believe he 
 would ruin her happiness forever. 
 
 He had been besieged and persuaded, until he could resist 
 no longer, but she had never plead with him. He had never 
 listened to her entreaties, her side of the question had not 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 113 
 
 been presented to him. First, she would try the surest way 
 to accomplish her purpose. She would still her beating heart 
 and calmly reason with him. She would ask God to help 
 her, and taking her Bible, try, as she never had done before, 
 to show him his error from God's word. If she could only 
 persuade him that Mormonism was a delusion, or even that 
 it would be right for him to renounce his intention, she knew 
 he would do so. She must stifle every emotion, keep her 
 mind clear in spite of anything he might say to excite and 
 terrify her, and with all her skill make one desperate effort 
 to save herself. Failing in this, she would appeal to his sym- 
 pathy, and at her pleadings, her loving entreaties, her sor- 
 row, his heart would relent, and surely he could not deny 
 her. Then they would forever leave that place where she 
 had seen so much sorrow, and again be happy in the Gen- 
 tile world. 
 
 Elder Northfield now entered the room, with a troubled 
 but determined look. 
 
 " Marion," said he, with a husky voice, " I have something 
 to tell you — something you will not like to hear. You have 
 asked me what has been troubling me of late, and expressed 
 Buch a brave spirit at the prospect of trouble in business, 
 that I have hope that you will bear this trouble bravely, 
 although of a different nature. The thought of it has made 
 me wretched night and day for months. My own dear wife, 
 God knows I would save you from it if I could ! " 
 
 " You can, Henry ! O, you can, if you will ! I know what 
 your trouble is. I know that you are deluded into believing 
 that you must take another wife. I heard you asking God 
 to give you strength to ruin my life, if need be. I heard you 
 ask God to stay your hand. He will not stay it if you de- 
 liberately decide to let it fall and crush me. I heard you 
 pray God not to let you bring sorrow on that loving heart. 
 He will let you do it, if you will. It is not God that is doing 
 8 
 
114 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 this ; it is you. You are breaking your vow to me. You are 
 forever blighting my happiness, and, I believe, your own, 
 too. Is it a kind and just God who bids you do this thing? 
 Is it a merciful Father who commands you to cause such 
 misery to fall on one whom you should cherish and shield 
 from trouble ? Is it a pure religion which leads you into 
 such gross immorality? O, my dear husband, you are de- 
 ceived ! How can you believe that such miserable teachings 
 are divine ! Why will you not use the reason God has given 
 you, and from it decide what is right ? Why ignore one of 
 God's best gifts, and trample it under foot? If He gives 
 revelations to the heads of the Church, He also gave you a 
 mind and heart. Were they allowed to exercise their natural 
 functions, you never could come to this. But your mind 
 has become warped, you cannot see things in their right 
 light. You are stifling all the good instincts of your heart, 
 and think, in doing so, you are doing God's will." 
 
 " Marion ! Marion ! You do not know what you are say- 
 ing. The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
 wicked. We should not follow our inclinations, but our con- 
 victions of duty. Although my heart aches for you, yet my 
 conscience tells me I am right. If I could bear all your part 
 of this trouble, as well as my own, I would gladly do it. Do 
 you suppose I could ever have come to this decision if I had 
 not believed it to be my duty ? We must crucify our own 
 wills and inclinations, and be willing to obey God, no matter 
 what the sacrifice may be, and in the eternal world our re- 
 ward will be sure." 
 
 " Does God delight in seeing his children inflict trouble on 
 themselves and their dear ones ? " asked Marion. 
 
 "Whom He loveth. He chasteneth," answered her hus- 
 band. 
 
 " Then let Him chasten. Do not take the chastening rod 
 from His hands." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 115 
 
 "But He works through His children, and commands 
 them, and they must obe3^" 
 
 " Is God pleased to see the Hindoo mother throw her in- 
 nocent babe into the Ganges as a sacrifice to appease His 
 wrath? Does He delight in seeing the men and women of 
 heathen lands throw themselves down for the wheels of Jug- 
 gernaut to crush them ? Is He honored and pleased at the 
 lifelong tortures men inflict on themselves in the hope of 
 thereby gaining greater happiness in Heaven ? Or does He 
 look upon the cruel wickedness in the Mormon church with 
 any degree of pleasure because the participants fancy they 
 are doing His will ? " 
 
 " Marion, it is simply blasphemous for you to associate the 
 religion of the Latter-Day Saints with heathenism, in the 
 way you do. You never did so before, and would not thus 
 denounce Mormonism now were it not that you so shrink 
 from bearing the cross." 
 
 " I never felt the necessity of it so strongly before, although 
 my convictions have been the same since we first arrived in 
 this city. But I have forebore to trouble you 'with my 
 opinions, believing it to be useless to try to persuade you to 
 renounce your rehgion, until now you propose to make a 
 living sacrifice of me. I can't submit without an effort to 
 show you that you are wrong, without a struggle to save 
 myself and you, too, from future trouble, for I do believe 
 that there will come a day before you die when you will 
 bitterly repent it if you take this step." 
 
 " I would give every dollar I possess, or ever hope to pos- 
 sess, Marion, to see you again rooted and grounded in the 
 faith as you once were. It is the lack of faith that gives rise 
 to such opinions as yours. If you could believe in Mor- 
 monism as I do, you would cheerfully submit to everything 
 that was for your highest good and glory. You would bear 
 this cross for Christ's sake. You would look beyond this 
 
116 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 short life; and even if the consciousness of having done right 
 failed to give you peace and joy here, you would be sure of 
 happiness hereafter." 
 
 *'But, Henry, what does the Bible say? Does it not say 
 *Aman shall be the husband of one wife?' Does it not 
 everywhere teach that plural marriages are wrong? " 
 
 " My dear, was not Jacob a tried and faithful servant of 
 God, blessed with visions from Heaven ? Did he not take 
 first Leah, then Rachel, to wife ? And we have no intima- 
 tion that God disapproved of his course. Abraham, too, the 
 most favored of all God's servants, lived up to this doctrine. 
 And what is more, Sarah, his first wife, gave unto him 
 Hagar, another wife. No doubt she did it cheerfully, 
 and God blessed her abundantly and in a wonderful 
 manner." 
 
 " But that was in the old dispensation before Christ came 
 and taught differently. You know before His coming it was 
 said ' an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,' and God's 
 servants were allowed to indulge in revenge against their 
 enemies, and He even led them in battle to destroy them ; 
 but Christ says, ' but I say unto you that you shall love 
 your enemies, and do good to those that despitefully use 
 you and persecute you.' All things were changed by his 
 coming, and nowhere in the New Testament can be found 
 any authority for this doctrine." 
 
 " But, Marion, your own admission of a change, caused by 
 a new dispensation, confounds your argument. We are 
 living in a still newer dispensation — the last one — and it is 
 changed from Christ's dispensation somev/hat, though re- 
 sembling both that and the first. If we are to follow the 
 last, then we are to follow the teachings and commands 
 given in the new revelations. These last revelations of God 
 to man are more binding upon us than the Bible by your 
 own arguments. The Book of Mormon and the divine reve- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 117 
 
 lations to Joseph Smith on celestial marriages arc later 
 authority than the Bible." 
 
 "I was not thinking of man's dispensations, but of God's. 
 I cannot believe that God gives revelations in these days; 
 but if so, he would have selected men more pure and holy 
 than Joseph Smith or Brigham Young to receive them. 
 We both know that in all the years we have spent here, we 
 have seen many actions of Brigham Young's and the Apos- 
 tles which were very questionable for saints." 
 
 "Certainly; even God's chosen servants sometimes sin. 
 They are human and liable to err ; but that does not prove 
 that they are not, in the main, right. We are not to judge 
 those God has set over us. And as to the revelations, there 
 is no reason why God should not give them in these days as 
 well as in farmer times. But why argue the question 
 further, Marion? It only distresses us both. I see my 
 duty, and hard though it is, I must do it. I must do it for 
 your sake, as well as mine ; for though you do not believe it, 
 if we go into the Gentile world our souls are lost; but if I 
 live up to the light given me, God will bless me and my 
 house and thus bring us all into his kingdom. How can I 
 hesitate between happiness here for my darling and eternal 
 happiness for her ? that you might look far enough ahead 
 and see as I do what will be for our happiness in the 
 end ! " 
 
 During this argument Marion had gradually become more 
 and more hopeless, until at last she quite despaired of suc- 
 cess. She was utterly wretched now, and very weak from her 
 excitement and great effort to hide her emotion. Elder 
 Northfield had been surprised at her calmness, and greatly 
 relieved. He expected the wildest storm of grief, and 
 dreaded exceedingly the effect the knowledge might have 
 upon her. He had beforehand steeled his heart against her 
 pleadings, lest his strength should fail him. But she had 
 
118 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 been so calm and composed, giving way to no emotion, that 
 he now felt that he had been unnecessarily rigid. He 
 thought the worst was now over and she would gradually 
 look at the situation in a more favorable light. He little 
 knew of the hope that was the secret of her calmness, nor 
 realized that her self-control was like a desperate effort for 
 dear life. She tried to rise from her chair, but fell back into 
 it. She attempted to speak, but could not. Her husband 
 sprang to save her from falling, and taking her in his arms, 
 he gently laid her on a sofa, saying, '' My poor wife ! I pity 
 you ! God knows I do ! " 
 
 He procured a stimulant for her and she was soon able 
 to speak. She wound her arms about his neck and plead 
 with all the eloquence of her soul. Her appeal to his 
 reason had been in vain ; now she appealed to his heart. 
 As those blue eyes, so full of terror and anguish, looked 
 into his, and those quivering lips begged and plead that 
 he would keep his promise to her, his composure gave 
 way, and he saw that all her former calmness was caused by 
 her agony. She reminded him of his promise, of her never- 
 failing devotion to him, of all she had given up for love of 
 him, when all hope in her religion had failed her. She en- 
 treated him, by the memory of all their past happiness, their 
 little boy, their happy home, to relent and go into the Gen- 
 tile world with her and their boy. 
 
 Then it was that he hesitated. How could he dash the 
 cup of happiness from her lips ? How could he reward all 
 her faithfulness to him by breaking her heart? His deter- 
 mination was weakening, and at the risk of their eternal 
 salvation, he was almost persuaded to grant her request. 
 He looked into her agonized face and felt that he could 
 not refuse her; but as fate would have it, at that instant a 
 leaf from a worn-out book of Mormon doctrines and revela- 
 tions fluttered to his feet. His eye was arrested by a sen- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 119 
 
 tence in the latter part of the revelation on celestial mar- 
 riages. He read these words : 
 
 "And again, verily, verily, I say unto you, if a man have 
 a wife, who holds the keys of this power, and he teaches 
 unto her the laws of my priesthood, as pertaining to these 
 things, then shall she believe and administer unto him, or 
 she shall be destroyed, saith the Lord your God. For I will 
 destroy her, for I will magnify my name upon all those who 
 receive and abide in my law." 
 
 Elder Northfield read these words and he was himself 
 again. He had almost yielded to the temptation of his 
 wife's entreaties, but was saved as by a miracle from falling 
 again a victim to the nobleness of his own heart. Still he 
 was pitiful and tender, but determined. " My darling," said 
 he, " your pleadings correspond with my own inclinations, 
 and I had almost yielded to the temptation, and thus ruined 
 our hope for eternity, but this piece of paper has saved me. 
 Believe me, I never loved you more than I do now, and if 
 I did not love you thus, I might relent, for, dearest, you 
 cannot know how hard it is for me to refuse you. I would 
 willingly sacrifice everything in this life for myself to save 
 you this pain ; but how can I sacrifice everything in the 
 next life for us both to grant your request? My poor 
 Marion ! Try to not think hard of me ; try to love me just 
 the same ; try to believe that it is not my wish to bring this 
 trouble upon ycy, and I will make it as light as I can. My 
 love shall always be yours and yours alone. I only think 
 of this as a painful duty which must be fulfilled." 
 
 He took Marion's cold hand closely in his, but there was 
 no answering pressure, and her lips could not form the answer 
 he craved. Her affection had received almost its death- 
 blow, and days passed during which she scarcely spoke or 
 had strength to walk about the house. She sat in an easy- 
 chair or reclined on her sofa, and seemed not to realize what 
 
120 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 was going on around her. For the first time in her life her 
 boy had no power to interest her, and his loving prattle fell 
 unheeded on her ear. If her husband approached her she 
 gave no sign of pleasure; when he left her she showed no 
 regret. Her senses were stunned, and she was capable of but 
 little emotion. But as her strength gradually returned, her 
 realization of the situation came back to her. Hearts may 
 break, all human hopes may die, all interest in life depart, 
 and yet the body will live on; and one may wish for death, 
 and wish in vain. 
 
 Marion's friend, Mrs. Atwood, heard of her illness, and 
 divining the cause hastened to her to offer comfort and sym- 
 pathy. It was what Marion needed. She had her husband's 
 sympathy and pity, but she did not care for that. It was no 
 comfort to her. How could he know what she suffered? 
 But this woman had been through the gUme trial, and could 
 offer genuine sympathy from the sadness of her own heart. 
 How she wept for Marion's grief, and Marion wept, too. 
 These were the first tears she had shed since that evening, 
 which now seemed so long ago. But they did her good, and 
 soon she was able to be again about the house, but was the 
 very ghost of her former self, with no interest, no animation, 
 no pleasure in anything. 
 
 It made Elder Northfield's heart ache to see how she suf- 
 fered, but yet he did not reproach himself at all as being the 
 cause. And he expected that soon she would be more re- 
 signed and cheerful. There had passed no word between 
 them on the subject during the time, but he had been goaded 
 on by the authorities to the immediate consummation of his 
 intention, and now felt obliged to speak again to her on the 
 subject. He said he had no one in view for a wife, and asked 
 her if she had any choice in the matter; if so, he would en- 
 deavor to gratify her wishes. He told her then how matters 
 had stood with him for years, and how he had fought against 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 121 
 
 it, both with his advisers and himself; how at last he was 
 obliged b}^ Brigham Young's command to marry, and that 
 without delay. 
 
 " I have no choice," said Marion, " and only one request, 
 that you say no more to me about it, but do as you will, 
 only give her a house of her own. You can afford it, so 
 please do not bring her here." 
 
 "It shall be as you say, Marion," and the subject was 
 dropped. 
 
 The dut}' of finding a woman who was willing to enter 
 into matrimony on short notice now occupied Elder North- 
 field's attention; but he had little difficulty, for Brother 
 Brigham was always an efficient helper in such matters, and 
 he had a blooming young woman, by the name of Helen 
 Crosby, already for him, and all counselled to marry. As 
 Elder Northfield was an attractive person, and his worldly 
 prospects all that could be desired, the candidate for his affec- 
 tions made no opposition to his suit, and the pathway began 
 to grow smooth to his feet.' 
 
 Certainly it was pleasanter to sit and converse with the 
 gay and sprightly Miss Crosby than to spend his evenings 
 with his sad-faced wife, who scarcely ever spoke, except to 
 her boy or in answer to some question. Her apparent wretch- 
 edness was a continual reproach, and the hours spent in her 
 society were anything but a pleasure to him. Still he kindly 
 tried, by every means in his power, to soften her grief, till 
 he saw that it w^as useless, and no effort of his could lift the 
 veil of sadness from her heart. He became discouraged, and 
 decided that all he could do was to leave it to time to bring 
 about a change. 
 
 He now devoted himself quite zealously to his betrothed. 
 He must not marry in ignorance of his intended bride's 
 qualities, disposition, etc., and as time was short, it must be 
 improved. So evening, after evening found him in Helen's 
 
122 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 parlor, and it must be confessed that the time slipped rapidly 
 away, until a late hour, very often. There was no love be- 
 stowed upon her, of course, for his love was always to be 
 Marion's, and Marion's alone. This duty, that had caused 
 him so many sleepless nights, so much grief, that had been 
 undertaken at last almost by compulsion, was becoming less 
 painful, and was performed with commendable alacrity and 
 diligence. 
 
 In a word. Elder Korthfield became quite infatuated with 
 his betrothed. He never had believed any other woman but 
 Marion could ever have his love, but without his realizing it 
 this woman had gained an influence over him which he 
 would never have thought possible. Her slightest wish was 
 law to him. She could make him happy by a word or ex- 
 tremely uncomfortable by a look. She enjoyed exercising 
 her power over him, and was in no haste to enter the matri- 
 monial state, lest the present agreeable state of things be- 
 come changed. 
 
 And during this time Marion saw all. She knew all that 
 was transpiring, though no word was spoken. She knew her 
 husband had lost the look of trouble and perplexity he had 
 worn so long, and that his sorrow for her grief was forgotten. 
 Although never actually unkind to her, yet he was very un- 
 mindful of her, and she knew her place in his affections had 
 been usurped by another. She avoided seeing him leave the 
 house, evening after evening, in such a pleasant preoccupied 
 way, that told so much. A thousand little actions of his 
 were like fresh stabs to her already bleeding heart. No little 
 loving attentions, like those of former days, were attempted 
 now, and Marion could not have received them, if they had 
 been offered her. Her husband was her own no longer. She 
 felt as though she were divorced from him. It was not enough 
 that he should take another wife, as a matter of duty, but he 
 had also transferred his affections to her, and Marion was no 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 123 
 
 longer loved by her husband. An unloved wife was she now, 
 and she drank the cup of bitterness to the dregs. As long 
 as her husband loved her the darkness was not quite com- 
 plete, although she had thought it could not be greater, but 
 now all she could hope and wish for was death. She prayed 
 that God in his mercy would take her and her boy from the 
 bitterness of this life and give them rest and peace. She 
 never complained, and her husband, when he thought of her 
 at all, thought she was getting resigned, and would in time 
 "get used to it," as other wives did. 
 
 And when he told her that on the following day he was to 
 be married to Helen Crosby, he was gratified to observe no 
 indication of pain at the information. He did not know that 
 she had come to that point where she could suffer no more ; 
 that her heart had become seared with its burning and pain. 
 He asked her if she felt able to go with him to the Endow- 
 ment House and perform her part in the ceremony, and she 
 answered that she would go. He kissed her and called her 
 his brave wife, but his words and caress seemed but mockery 
 to her, and she shrank from them. 
 
 On the following day she gave her husband a second wife. 
 She placed the hand of Helen Crosby in his, and he was 
 married to her for time and eternity. There was no essen- 
 tial difference between the bridegroom of that occasion and 
 the bridegroom of Gentile life. There was no reason to think 
 the young pair were not in the same blissful state of mind 
 commonly supposed to belong to their existing circum- 
 stances. Very happy the bride seemed to be, and what was 
 it to them that a woman, once far lovelier and fairer than 
 she, and of a much nobler nature, stood by their side a 
 crushed, a wretched being? They did not know it. Their 
 fascination for each other completely blinded them to every- 
 thing else. Had it not been so, neither could have been so 
 heartless. 
 
124 ELDER XORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 In the days that followed, Marion saw very little of her 
 husband. For this she did not care, now that he was 
 hers no longer ; but those who frequented the ball-room, the 
 theatre, and the social entertainments, saw him with his 
 bride among the gayest of the gay. He had obeyed divine 
 commands and was now happy. His conscience was at rest, 
 and life was now a pleasure to him. 
 
 About this time Marion received a letter from her sister. 
 It was written on the anniversary of Marion's wedding-day, 
 and much was said in it about the lives of both since their 
 separation. Elsie tenderly referred to the loss of her little 
 namesake, but congratulated Marion that her life had been 
 free from the trouble that she and tlieir aunt had so strongly 
 apprehended. She acknowledged the injustice done Marion's 
 husband in believing he would be untrue to her, and spoke 
 in glowing terms of the force of character he proved to pos- 
 sess to enable him to stand firm for the right in the midst 
 of such overwhelming influence. She said: "Now, Marion, 
 after all these years have passed and still you are the first 
 and only one in your husband's affections, I can lay aside 
 my fears for you and believe that you were right in trusting 
 60 implicitly in his word. I feel hke begging his pardon 
 for misjudging him in the way I did." Then she confided 
 to her sister the events of her own life — the emotions of her 
 own heart. Happily had passed the years with her at her 
 aunt's home, and now a new joy had come into her life — a 
 new gift was bestowed upon her. It was the love and de- 
 votion of one of God's noblemen, and Elsie was soon to 
 unite her destiny w^ith his in marriage. The wedding-day 
 was appointed, " and," wTote Elsie, " the only impediment 
 to my perfect happiness on that day will be the absence of 
 my sister Marion. But I know^ her thoughts will be w4th 
 me, and with all her heart and soul she will wish me joy, 
 although I cannot hear her lips express her sentiments. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 125 
 
 Think of me that day, darling sister, and pray that I may 
 be as faithful a wife as you have been, and that my hus- 
 band's devotion may continue through the coming years as 
 Elder Northfield's devotion has endured for you." 
 
 At the reading of this letter Marion was taken out of her- 
 self, and her sister's interests were hers for the time. But ! 
 the bitterness of her heart as she read the undeserved praises 
 of her husband and realized that her aunt's predictions were 
 fulfilled, and that haunting spectre of her life, which, how- 
 ever, she never believed would take its abode in her home, 
 had at last blighted her life as it had so many before her. 
 By accident, as she was leaving the room, and unnoticed by 
 her, the letter dropped from her hands, which were filled 
 with letters and papers. Elder Northfield entered, and ob- 
 serving the post-mark, opened and read the letter. He 
 could not tell why he did so, for he usually avoided Elsie's 
 letters, but this one he read from beginning to end. He 
 heartily wdshed he had not, however, for it made him very 
 uncomfortable. He could not get it out of his mind, and 
 although he sought the companionship of his bride to dispel 
 his uneasiness, yet the effects of that letter lasted many a 
 day. 
 
 Marion's callers had become very infrequent, in conse- 
 quence of her seclusion from all society ; but now, since the 
 great change in their lives, she had often to go through the 
 ordeal of entertaining company. Some came to ofier sym- 
 pathy and comfort. Among this class were Mrs. Atwood, 
 the wives of Elder Atkins, and Carrie Parker. Carrie could 
 now sympathize with her, for she had tasted of the cup of 
 sorrow, and her once fond husband had added another wife 
 to his list, another jewel to his crown, another subject to his 
 kingdom, and Carrie was ruthlessly thrust aside. She now 
 devoted herself to the children she had taken to her heart, 
 and in them she found much comfort. There were other 
 
126 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 callers who came or were sent to labor with Marion to recon- 
 cile her to her lot and exhort her to submission and religions 
 devotion. And still another class, who came out of curiosity 
 to see how the rebellious wife appeared, and " whether she 
 would now hold up her head and boast that her husband 
 would never be a polygamist." Among this class came two 
 of the Mrs. Smiths, Ellen and Josephine, and they were 
 hardened enough to taunt her of her faith in her husband. 
 Marion's heart had been too dead to be stirred by anger, but 
 this insult awakened her indignation and resentment. A 
 new life seemed to be given her. Her blood boiled and 
 surged through her veins till it seemed that it was turned to 
 fire. Her eyes kindled, her pale cheeks crimsoned, and 
 Marion was changed. Her visitors departed, astonished and 
 not a little taken aback. The change in her was too great 
 for even her husband not to observe it. He had meant to 
 tell her of his intention of bringing Helen there on the fol- 
 lowing day that his wives might become acquainted, but 
 something in her voice and looks deterred him from pro- 
 posing that she make some friendly advances towards the 
 new wife as he had intended. But in a few days he told her 
 of his wish to bring Helen there for a call, and requested 
 that she would receive her graciously. He took close obser- 
 vation of his wife now, and gave her more thought and at- 
 tention than he had before since Helen had first occupied his 
 mind. He was shocked to see how changed she was. Her 
 eyes had lost their pleasant light, and her lips were drawn 
 as with great suffering. Her cheeks were thin and hollow, 
 and were either deadly pale or glowing with the excitement 
 of inward pain. He thought of his beautiful and happy 
 bride of five years before, and to his credit it may be said 
 that he was touched by feelings of remorse. 
 
 Marion said, " Bring her if you wish," but she did not care 
 to make any attempt towards cultivating an acquaintance. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 127 
 
 Her husband thought she was trying to be reconciled and 
 would overcome her sadness in time. He pitied her now 
 that lie thought of her, and sought to make their conversa- 
 tion cheerful. It was his first heartfelt attention for a long 
 time, but it only made Marion more miserable, for it soft- 
 ened the hardness of her heart and rendered her more sensi- 
 tive to grief. She could have borne insult better, for anger 
 would have stifled more torturing emotions. 
 
128 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MARION had consented to the bringing of the second 
 wife into her home, but she felt that she could not 
 endure the painful ordeal that was expected of her. She 
 grew almost frantic as she paced her chamber till the small 
 hours of the night. She longed for escape. She could not 
 remain in that house after it had been polluted by the en- 
 trance of her husband's new wife. She resolved to take her 
 child and steal away in the darkness, make her way out of 
 the city in the direction of Southern Utah, and journey cau- 
 tiously and secretly to the house of the man who befriended 
 one wretched woman in her trouble. He would help her 
 out of the Territory, she felt sure, and she would go into the 
 Gentile world — not among her friends — no, Elsie should 
 never know her situation, no matter what she suffered. She 
 and aunt Wells must never know of her humiliation and 
 trouble, if they never heard from her again. Elsie was very 
 happy now, and her happiness should not be clouded by her 
 sister's trouble. In the Gentile world, among strangers, she 
 would find employment, and there rear her little son away 
 from all Mormon influences. Her husband would not care. 
 He did not love her, and she did not love him now. She 
 woke her slumbering boy with difficulty. He thrust his 
 fists into his big blue eyes and rubbed them till the tears 
 came. His mother told him wonderful stories to keep him 
 awake, while she combed his long curly locks and washed 
 his chubby face. She dressed him with all a mother's care, 
 and then made up a bundle of a few necessary articles of 
 clothing. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORrilON ALTAR. 120 
 
 "Forest," said slic, " clo you want to go with mamma to 
 see Mrs. Atwood? " 
 
 "O yes, mamma! and Ella and Robbie, too. Cut why 
 don't you wait till morning? I'm so sleepy." 
 
 " It is morning, dear, but very early ; and I do not want to 
 disturb the rest, so my boy must be very still." 
 
 " I'll be very still," said he, " and I'll take my new cart in 
 the carriage and show it to Robbie, and we'll play with 
 it." 
 
 But in spite of Forest's promises, tvro or tliree peals of 
 laughter escaped him, as he thought and talked of the fun 
 he was to have with Robbie. 
 
 Clarion was alarmed lest he had av/akened the house, but 
 lier fears were groundless, and with what money she had in 
 her possession, her jewelry, and her bundle, they quietly de- 
 scended the stairs, and carefully undoing the fastenings of 
 one of the outer doors, they stood free, with only the blue 
 sky above them. 
 
 " Why, mamma, where is the carriage and where is papa? " 
 asked Forest. 
 
 " Hush, my child, we are going to walk, and papa is not 
 going with us." 
 
 " Then I can't carry my little cart." 
 
 "0, yes, you can; we will draw it," said Marion, willing 
 to do anything to hush the child. 
 
 She procured the cart in great fear of being discovered, 
 and carried it with one arm, in spite of its weight, lest the 
 sound of its wheels should be heard, and with the other hand 
 almost dragged her child along. When the}'' had proceeded 
 some distance, she put it on the ground and they drew it, 
 and soon as Forest grew tired and sleepy, she persuaded him 
 to leave it by the roadside, and then they hastened on. 
 
 She felt that she must see her friend, Mrs. Atwood, again, 
 and thither she was going to bid her farav/ell. She had some 
 9 
 
130 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 difficulty in arousing the inmates of the house, but finally 
 succeeded. Mr. Atwood was not at home, Marion knew. 
 He with his second wife had gone on a visit to her friends, 
 and Forest was much disappointed to learn that Robbie had 
 gone with his mother. Had they been at home, Marion 
 would not have dared approach their cottage. 
 
 Mrs. Atwood was astonished and alarmed to receive a visit 
 from her friend at that unseasonable hour, but she gave her 
 a kind welcome. 
 
 Marion was so exhausted with her excitement and long, 
 hurried walk, that she could hardly speak. 
 
 Mrs. Atwood kindly bade her not to try to talk, but rest a 
 few moments, and then tell what had brought her there. 
 
 She obeyed, and as her glance wandered around the room 
 it rested on more than one reminder of her happier life in 
 the. cottage she had just passed. There were the books she 
 had given Ella from which to learn to read. These reminded 
 her of her little school, that was such a pleasure to her. 
 Here was a picture, sketched by her one leisure afternoon ; 
 and now her eyes rested on a picture of herself and husband, 
 taken long ago, when they were happy and true to each 
 other. 
 
 She reached out her hand and asked for it. Her friend 
 gave it to her. Her eyes were riveted on that face, beaming 
 with tenderness and love. His expression had changed since 
 the days there portrayed. Marion could not take her eyes 
 from that face. 
 
 "He loved me then," she murmured. 
 
 " Yes, and he will love you again," said her friend. 
 
 " Do you believe that? " asked Marion. 
 
 " I do, and think he will come to his senses sooner or 
 later, and realize that his infatuation for Helen is only an 
 infatuation, and that it is only Marion whom he really 
 loves." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 131 
 
 Into Marion's heart there came a gleam of hope at the 
 thouglit. 
 
 '• If I could have helieved tliat," said she, " I should not 
 have heen here now. I would Avait patiently for yenrs, ar:d 
 endure almost anything, if I knew he would cc n.e back to 
 me at last, and be mine alone again — if we could have the 
 same happ}^ life we lived in that little cottage yonder. But 
 it never can be ! " 
 
 Then she told Mrs. Atwood of her project, and that she 
 had come to bid her a final farewell. 
 
 " My poor, dear friend,'' said Mrs. Atwood, " you must not 
 think of anything so rash. In your condition you will 
 perish before you can complete such a journey, and with 
 that little bo}^ you will surely fail in your attempt. Wait 
 till you are better able to undertake it, and if you are not 
 less unhapp}^, I will help you all I can to get away from 
 Mormon life. But, Marion, I believe brighter days are com- 
 ing for you. It is always darkest just before the day, you 
 know. Nettie's husband repented of his neglect to her, you 
 know, even though at the eleventh hour. But his repent- 
 ance is sincere, I have no reason to doubt, and another man 
 may repent at an earlier hour. Your husband may be that 
 man, Marion. I have hope for you yet." 
 
 And Marion began to have hope for herself. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "he may repent at my dying bed; that 
 would be worth a great deal. Would it be worth waiting a 
 lifetime for, or will my life be a short one, as I sometimes 
 think and hope? If he should repent in time to give me a 
 little happiness before I die, it would be worth living for." 
 
 Marion had thought all love for her husband had died in 
 her heart, but at sight of his picture, old memories were re- 
 vived, and her old love with them. She felt now that slie 
 could not leave her husband. She loved him still, and would 
 patiently wait and hope to win him back to herself. 
 
132 ELDER yORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 "When day dawned ^Mrs. Atwood procured a carriafre and 
 ■went witli Marion and Forest to their home. But Marion's 
 cxliaiistion proved too much for her endurance, and i<he was 
 laid upon a sick-bed, wliich she did not leave for many- 
 weeks. But in spite of her pain, her weakness, and bodily 
 suffering, the load of misery was lifted, in a great degree, 
 from her heart. 
 
 It seemed strange, as she recovered her consciousness, to 
 find her husband by her side. It seemed like the times of 
 long ago ; 0, so long ago ! She w^ondered if the past had not 
 been a terrible dream. In her weakness she could not com- 
 prehend the situation. But one thing she knew, he was 1 y 
 her side and was tenderly caring for her, almost constantly. 
 She tried to realize that and forget everything else. But she 
 could not help wondering, if the past was a realit\', why he 
 remained away from Helen so much. Had he repented, as 
 Nettie's husband did? Was he ready now to grant her re- 
 quest, and leave Helen and all tlie Mormons and go to the 
 Gentile world? the joy of the moment when Marion 
 allowed herself to believe such was the case! 
 
 "Henry," she faintly wdnspered. 
 
 '' Marion, my darling ! Thank God you can speak to me 
 again," said he. 
 
 Marion closed her eyes and repeated his words over and 
 over again to herself. The words " my darling " had never 
 sounded so sweet to her before. It had been long since she 
 had heard them and seen in the speaker's face the old look 
 'of fondness, but it was there now% and his tones were full of 
 tenderness. He had given her back the love he had taken 
 from her. ]\Irs. Atwood's predictions were fulfilled, and 
 sooner than either thouij^ht possible. He was hers now, she 
 knew; was he hers alone? O, could, it l)c that another 
 shared his heart? She had never asked him a question 
 about Helen, and could not now. But she felt unable to 
 bear the suspense, and hoping to end it, said : 
 
CACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 133 
 
 " Have you come back to me ? " 
 
 He understood her, and lest she should hope for too much, 
 said : 
 
 " Yes, my dear Marion, my love is all yours now. God 
 forgive me for my past neglect, and 3^ou shall be the first and 
 only one in my heart, as you are now. I must not wrong 
 others, but duty alone will prompt any attentions to 
 another." 
 
 Then ]\rarion knew her. husband had not given up his 
 other wife, had not given up his religion, and they were not 
 to leave Utah after all. She was bitterly disappointed, for 
 she had hoped so much a few moments before. 
 
 Elder Northfield saw it all, and said, gently : 
 
 " When you are stronger, dear, we will talk more of this; 
 but now do you not wish to see Forest and our little baby 
 girl?" 
 
 " yes, my baby ! I must see my baby. Bring her to 
 me." 
 
 The mother-love had for a time overcome her disappoint- 
 ment, and as a little soft cheek was laid against hers, and 
 j>he felt the pressure of baby hands, life yet had its charms 
 for her, and she was far from wishing now that she and 
 Forest might die. She saw tliat her little one had the deep 
 dark eyes and black curly hair of its father, and was glad it 
 was so. 
 
 " We have called her Marion. Shall that be her name— 
 chall we have a little Marion? " 
 
 Marion was pleased at this token of affection, and said: 
 
 ''If you wish it." 
 
 " ] do, for INIarion is the sweetest name to me. Now, shaU 
 I take bah 7 away and bring Forest to see you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; let me see my little boy. Where has he been all 
 this time?" 
 
 But he was in the room before they could call him. 
 
134 ELDER NORTIIFIELd's HOME; OR, 
 
 "MaiTima! nianima ! " said lie, " tliey "wouldn't let mc 
 come to see you. Tlicy said I would make a nijise — and 
 see how still I am ! Papa stays liere now all the time, dont 
 he, mamma ? and he sa3'S next time we go to Mrs. Atwood's 
 he will go with us, and we will ride. And he tried to find 
 my cart, and it was all gone, and I couldn't 'member Avhere 
 v/e put it. Can't you find it, mamma? " 
 
 Her little son's words revived all that had passed during 
 that wretched night that she had attempted to run away 
 from her husband. She felt to thank God now that she had 
 been prevented. Had slie accomplished her object, she 
 would never have known the blessedness of this restoration. 
 Her life would always have been dark; but now there was 
 hope for her. She was exhausted now, and several days 
 passed before the subject of their estrangement was again 
 brought up. Then INfarion was stronger and better aljle to 
 bear it, and her husband spoke freely to her about Helen 
 and his relation to her. 
 
 " How I ever became so taken up with her I cannot tell. 
 At first I went there from a sense of duty alone, but some- 
 how or other she gained a great power and influence over 
 nie. I was fairly intoxicated with my infatuation for her 
 and knew nothing else. J do not think I really loved her. 
 It seems to me I could not have been in my right mind ; 
 but after a time the scales began to fall from my eyes, and I 
 saw that she had never appreciated my devotion to her and 
 delighted only in the power and position she had ol)tained. 
 I came home and found my Marion too sick to know me 
 and too weak to raise her hand. The sight of my poor 
 brokenhearted wife brought me back to my senses. God 
 only knows tb.e anguish of remorse and penitence that I suf- 
 fered, as I realized what I had done. From that time, 
 Marion, I have tried to atone for my cruelty to you, by 
 watching and caring for you, hoping to bring you back to 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 135 
 
 life and health, for, darling, I feared I had killed you. I 
 feared 3^011 would never speak to me again, and 3^ou can- 
 not know how glad I am to see you growing stronger every 
 day. Now, Marion, can you forgive me and be happy 
 again ? " 
 
 " I can forgive you with all my heart, and I think I can 
 be happy. I thought once that it would be sufficient to 
 make me miserable for life to have you take another wife, 
 even if it was only as a duty; but since I lost your love, 
 and was utterly forsaken for her, I know that I could bear a 
 part of the load, if only the heaviest need not be laid upon 
 me. O, Henry ! You know not my wretchedness, as I felt 
 forsaken and alone with only my boy to love me. You 
 know not how I longed and prayed that I might die and 
 rest from my misery. I felt that I could not bear the ordeal 
 of meeting Helen, and so I stole away. But I am glad, 
 so glad, that I am back again, and to prove how freely I for- 
 give you, I will try to make friends with Helen if you 
 w^ish." 
 
 " Not at present, Marion. Some time when you are well 
 and strong I would be glad to have you become acquainted, 
 for she, too, is my wife, you know " (Marion could not hear 
 these words without shrinking and disputing them to her- 
 self), " and I have a duty to perform towards her as well as 
 towards you. I have neglected her almost entirely since 
 you have been ill, and she is quite angry with me, and not 
 without some cause. I do not think my neglect could ever 
 grieve her as it has you, yet I have no doubt she has been 
 very lonely, and I am sorry for her; but still my Marion 
 has needed me most, and needs me most now ; and hence- 
 forth, though I have two wives and must do justice to both, 
 my attentions to Helen shall be limited by my convictions 
 of duty. Beyond that I will never go ; but you will see 
 yourself that it would be cruel to her to neglect her entirely, 
 and I am sure you would not wish me to do that." 
 
136 ELDER NORTIiriELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 ''No. Now tliat you have made her your Avife yon must 
 trv to do ^^;l•lt. But how can a man do liis duty to one 
 wife without neglecting the other? I think it impossible, 
 and if you try to do justice we shall each have a cross to 
 hear; hut I will try to bear mine patiently, for it is now so 
 much lighter. It does not crush me now. The heaviest 
 part of the hurden is removed, and I can hear the rest. But 
 shall I tell you what I thought when I first realized that 
 you were with me again ? I thought you had repented of it 
 all — that you had at last seen your error, and had forsaken 
 Helen and Mormonism and were ready to leave everything 
 hcne and go with me to the Gentile world. how happy 
 the thought made me ! " 
 
 "I almost wish it were right, Marion, for your sake — you 
 are so unhappy here — and I would gladly do so. But I 
 cannot helieve that there is any true religion, except this 
 one. It is God's last revelation, nnd though the majority of 
 tho, world does not accept it, God's chosen people were 
 always a little flock, and if I desert the cause I liave es' 
 ponsed and refuse to walk in the light given me I know 
 what my reward will be. I know in taking Helen I did my 
 duty, and sinned only in allowing the matter to he anything 
 but a duty." 
 
 The roses were not coming hack into Marion's life without 
 the thorns, and with the comfort her husband's words gave 
 her was mingled a good deal of bitterness, as she realized 
 that polygamy was to cloud her domestic happiness, though 
 she believed not to altogether destroy it. And she would 
 liope that some time he might see the fallacy of his whole 
 belief and shake off the fetters that bound him captive to a 
 false religion. 
 
 As the weeks passed on, Marion was tormented in spite of 
 herself vrith feelings of jealousy and fear of Helen again be- 
 coming a rival in her husband's regard. He was a lover of 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 137 
 
 society, r.nd would have been pjlad if he could have taken 
 both wives with him to ])laccs of amusement as other men 
 did. But that was out of the question. jNIarion sometimes 
 accompanied him, but she was anytlnng but happy, and 
 preferred the quiet of her own home and the society of lier 
 little ones. Fear of Helen, however, always ensured a will- 
 ing assent to an}^ request of her husband for her company. 
 But Helen was seen with him oftenest, and she was sup- 
 posed to be his favorite wife; but she knew that she was 
 not — her power over him liad gone. He no longer lingered 
 lover-like, loth to go, but hastened home to Marion. If 
 Marion was jealous of tlie second wife, doubly so now was 
 the second wife jealous of her. This celestial order of mar- 
 riage was poorly calculated to inspire heavenly attributes in 
 its victims. 
 
 Marion resolved at last to conquer her feelings aTul call 
 upon Helen. She felt that she could not meet her first in the 
 presence of her husband, and therefore said nothing about her 
 intentions to him. With a beating heart she rang the bell at 
 Helen's door, but Helen was not at home, and Marion could 
 not avoid a sigh of relief at being spared an interview with 
 her. She retraced her steps, and passing one of the shops saw 
 tlirough the window her husband and his wife, Helen, ap- 
 parently making purchases together. Tijis was the first time 
 she had ever seen them together since their marriage, and 
 the first time she had seen Helen at all, except on that day 
 Ghe had given her to their husband, and now the sight of her 
 filled her heart with pangs of jealousy and hatred. Was she 
 deceived in her husband and were the hours she supposed 
 he devoted to business spent in attending Helen in her 
 shopping expeditions? And Marion returned to her home, 
 almost ready to give herself up to her old wretchedness. 
 Her husband had seen her as she passed the windows and 
 inquired at night where she had been. 
 
138 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 TIlis led to an explanation, wliicli quieted her fears, and 
 again lier mind vvas at rest. But her life in those days was 
 like a turbulent, fitful stream — now quiet and comparatively 
 peaceful, now agitated by fears and apprehensions and dark- 
 ened by the many heartaches that polygamy in even its 
 most unobjectionable form must cause. 
 
 An interesting event now occurred in the other branch of 
 Elder Northfield's family. He was presented with a daugh- 
 ter b3^ Helen. His family was increasing, and his kingdom 
 building up now in a manner approved by the Saints. 
 Three additions had been made to it within a year, and he 
 began to be looked upon with favor by the Cliurch authori- 
 ties. He was in good standing now with the Church and 
 considered a good Mormon. 
 
 There was now a new attraction in Helen's home for him, 
 and she saw with pleasure that her babe was bringing her 
 more of the society of her husband. But Marion could only 
 look upon the little stranger as an intruder, and upon its 
 arrival her heart was filled with feelings of hatred. She 
 considered it a usurper of the affection that belonged to her 
 and her children. It seemed like a new outrage upon her 
 domestic life, and she was very unhappy struggling with her 
 feeling of hatred towards Helen and her child. She knew 
 that she was wrong and despised herself for her unjust senti- 
 ments towards an innocent babe. She tried to put herself 
 in Helen's place and to possess the spirit of kindness toward 
 her and hers. She resolved to do as slie would be done by 
 in Helen's circumstances and conquer her jealousy. She de- 
 termined to crush out her enmity and call upon the other 
 wife and child, hoping that might lead the wa}" to a better 
 feeling among tliem. 
 
 She found Helen with her bahe in her arms. She received 
 her sister-wife in a cool, suspicious manner. Each tried to 
 speak calmly and regard the other with ease, but both tnew 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 139 
 
 from this, their first interview, that there could never exist 
 any feeling of love, or even friendship, between them. IMarion 
 tried to regard the little one with at least the same tender- 
 ness any ordinary babe would have awakened, for she was 
 extremely fond of children, but it was all she could do to 
 pay it the amount of attention she felt necessary. She took 
 it in her arms, and its touch sent a chill through her. She 
 ft'lt her heart harden towards the innocent httle one, and its 
 mother also. She almost dropped it into the arms of the 
 latter, who, being on the alert, did not fail to notice her visi- 
 tor's repugnance. Instead of conquering her animosity, 
 Marion had increased it by coming in contact with its 
 cbjccts. 
 
 Helen also resented the dislike Marion's face expressed for 
 her little Nell, and from that time they were further than 
 ever from becoming friendly. No further effort was made 
 on either side to that effect, each knowing that any such at- 
 tempt would but augment the unpleasantness of their mutual 
 relations. 
 
 But Marion went home sad and self-reproachful for her 
 wicked sensations as she held in her arms a babe just as 
 dear and sweet to its mother as her own little Marion was to 
 her, and for aught she knew, just as dear to her husband as 
 was his other babe. In this last thought lay much of the 
 sting, and she became very jealous of little Nell for baby 
 Marion's sake. 
 
 As the little ones grew older, and were able to lisp a few 
 words, walk about, and frolic and play, Nell became her 
 father's favorite, for she Avas always pleased to see him, 
 always ready to meet him with outstretched arms and a 
 laughing happy face, while little Marion shrank timidly 
 from him, and only the greatest coaxing could bring her to 
 his side. If she was having a merry romp with her mother, 
 suddenly the sound of her father's footsteps would change 
 
140 ELDER KORTIIFIELD S HOME) OR, 
 
 tlic briglit (lark boauly of her face to a look of fear, as she 
 -watched him and clir.v^ f:ist to her mother's neck. 
 
 Elder Northlield had often stood an unobserved spectator, 
 -watching her beauty and grace, her sprightliness and sweet 
 •winninir vrays, as slic played v/ith Forest, of whom she was 
 very fond, and wished that he might, for just one hour, have 
 tlie love and confidence of his little daugliter. He envied 
 little Forest. When he spoke to her, hoping to coax her to 
 him, she instantly grew spbcr and ran away to her mother. 
 Tins was a constant source of annoyance to Elder North- 
 field, but more so to the mother, for she most ardently wished 
 her husband to love their little daughter, and she tried to 
 create an affection in Marion for him, fearing baby Nell, with 
 her winsomeness, would supplant Marion in his heart. Cut 
 little Marion could not be made to love and trust in her 
 father to any great extent, and as time passed on Nell be- 
 came more and more the favorite. 
 
 Elder Northfield now spent more of his time at Helen's 
 home, but she never regained her old power over him. It 
 was his child that brought him there, if he came more than 
 duty compelled him. His first wife continued to be first in 
 his thoughts and heart, although she was often racked with 
 jealous fears to the contrary. Helen's baby she knew had 
 supplanted her Marion, and Helen might yet supjjlant her, 
 as she liad once done. She could not rest, as she had once, 
 secure in her confidence in her husband. 
 
 Thus matters went on until the little ones were about three 
 years old. Then Helen's health began to fail; she grew 
 rapidly worse, and lier husband felt that it was his duty to 
 attend her as much as possil)lc. Marion compelled herself 
 to wiibmLdy forego her claim to his society, and was now much 
 alone. She tried to school herself to believe that it was her 
 husband's duty to remain by Helen's bedside, as he h:id re- 
 mained by hers, and now into her heart came sympathy for 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 141 
 
 the sufferer, and her ill feeling wasr chnngecl to pity. She 
 went with him and tried to administer to the wants of Helen, 
 and show her that she had hanished her unkind feelings 
 towards her and little Nell. Marion really felt regretful now 
 for her past jealousy, and wished to make amends. She did 
 not shrink now from Nell's touch, but gently cared for her 
 as she did for her own darling. 
 
 Helen's eyes, as she lay on her pillow, followed Marion 
 about, as though she wondered at her kindness, but could 
 not understand that she had forgiven her for becoming her 
 husband's wife. 
 
 At last one day Elder Northfield entered Helen's room, 
 and taking her hand said : 
 
 " My poor Helen, can you bear to be told what your phy- 
 sician says? " 
 
 " What does he say ? Tell me, is there no hope for me ? 
 Must I die?" 
 
 " We fear you must, and I did not think it right not to 
 tell you. Dear Helen, I am sorry, but I can give you no 
 hope." 
 
 "Are you sorry ? I did not think you would care. You 
 have not loved mc much since the first few months I knew 
 you." 
 
 " Forgive me, if I have not loved you as I ought. I have 
 tried to do right, but it was hard sometimes to know what 
 was my duty. I have not meant to wrong any one." 
 '' O my poor little Nell ! " moaned Helen. 
 "Have you any wish or request to make about Nell's 
 future? Marion, I think, is getting very fond of her, and 
 you may rest assured she will be well cared for." 
 
 " Not by her ! I don't want her to have my child. She 
 does not love her. She hated her the first time she saw her ; 
 I saw it in her eye. I saw her shiver, almost, as she put her 
 out of her arms. Why she came then, I do not know. Why 
 she comes now, and seems kind to me, I do not know. 
 
142 I^LDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 "She comes now, Helen, because she pities 3'ou, and 
 wishes to show her kind feeling towards you." 
 
 " But she has always hated me, and my baby, too ; and do 
 you think I would now put my little one in her care? My 
 sister will take her, and you must promise me to send her to 
 mj sister." 
 
 '•'Cut, Helen, you know how I love her, and how hard it 
 will be for me to part with her." 
 
 " Yes, I know you love her, and perhaps I should have 
 had more pity for you if you had had more for me. 
 But I know that your love for her is all that has brought 
 you here. Had it not been for her, I should have been 
 utterly neglected. You were all devotion to me till we were 
 married, and led me to expect you would continue to be, but 
 how soon you forsook me ! You gave one wife years of de- 
 votion, but could only give the other a few short months. It 
 was only fair tliat I should have been first in your regard 
 now, but you went back to her again, and she even grudged 
 mo what slight attentions you did pay me. She grudged mo 
 even my baby, my only treasure and jov, and sire shall not 
 have her now. At least you will not refuse this request, now 
 that I am going to die. I suppose she will be glad when I 
 am dead, and no one will mourn for me but poor little Xell 
 and my sister." 
 
 "Helen, I shall mourn for ycu ; and if you only might 
 live, I think we should all be more happy in our relations 
 to each other than we have been. Try to feel forgiving 
 towards Marion and me. ]\Iarion feels perfectly friendly now 
 towards you." 
 
 "I never can feel forgiving towards her, even though I am 
 dying. She has wanted all and was willing I sliould have 
 nothing. She has been very selfish, I think, and cannot 
 atone for it now I am dying. But you will grant my 
 request ? " 
 
SACRIFICED OiN THE MORMON ALTAR. 
 
 143 
 
 "Yes, Helen, it shall be as you wisli. God knows I am 
 Boriy enon;^li I liavc not made you any happier. I have 
 made two women miserable, but I tried to do my duty. 
 Our religion leads to these results sometimes, I think, and 
 we musr try to think it is all right, for it cannot always be 
 helped, and although our wives have a cross to bear in this 
 life, in the Celestial Kingdom they will be happy. There is 
 hope for you, Helen. You will have a place there to reward 
 you for ail you have had to bear here, and there we know 
 all these human weaknesses will not trouble us, and we will 
 meet there and be happy." 
 
 " I do not think much about these things. I suppose it is 
 so, but nothing of that kind seems real to me. I think if 
 she were there with her children, I should not be any happier 
 than I am here. I do not want to die ; I want to live for 
 my baby's sake. O, I can't die!" and Helen went into a 
 perfect paroxysm of grief. 
 
 Marion, although the greatest sufferer, was not the only 
 one in this case of polygamy, Helen's sorrows, or cross, cs 
 the Mormons spoke of it, had been hard to bear. Her short 
 experience of the system had proved a sad one, and was 
 bringing bitterness into her dying hours. She felt that she 
 had been robbed of her share of happiness, and in the be- 
 yond there was nothing brighter to hope for. Nothing more 
 in this life for her — her only pleasure she must leave. She 
 lay upon her dying bed while the one who smoothed her 
 pillow and watched over her, though bearing the nearest and 
 what should be the dearest relationship to her, performed 
 these offices from a sense of duty, rather than from the 
 promptings of love. Polygamy had hung a pall over this 
 young life, and robbed her death of all rays of light and 
 hope. The husband, too, had suffered. Perplexed beyond 
 measure had he been to decide how to deal justly and fairly 
 with both wives — how to avoid giving pain to either, or ne- 
 
144 ELDER NORTIIFIEI,d's HOME; OR, 
 
 glectin:? ono for tiio otlier. If his vrivcs could have lived 
 tojxether, gone out together, accompanied him together, his 
 t.isk would have hcen easier; hut he never would try to 
 bring tiiat affliction on Marion, and it would have been 
 equally impossible to persuade Helen to that mode of life. 
 Elder Northfield was not like most Mormon men, who would 
 have "forced then:- into it," and who frequently advised him 
 to that course. He knew their cross must be heavy enough 
 at best, and humanely endeavored to make it as light as was 
 in his power. There was constantly something too notice- 
 able in the appearance of each wife that seemed like a re- 
 proach to him. He was able to make neither happ}', and 
 this consciousness weighed like a millstone about his neck. 
 His domestic happiness had gone in a great measure. Ho 
 did not possess the affection of one of his little daughters, 
 and now his wife was dying with reproaches for him on her 
 lips. He had done his duty, lived up to the light he had 
 received, obeyed divine commands, and this v.*as all the re- 
 ward he had thus flir received. 
 
 Helen failed rapidly now, and at last it was with real sor- 
 row that her husband closed her eyes in death. Constant 
 attendance upon her and a demand upon his sympathies 
 had awakened something of his former tenderness for her, 
 and could she but have realized it, the pathway to her gravo 
 might have been smoothed a little, but she could only be- 
 lieve that his kindness and sympathy were forced. 
 
 Marion knew how matters stood, but she could not and 
 would not be jealous of a dying woman, and encouraged her 
 husband to make ever}^ efibrt for the alleviation of her jDain, 
 both bodily and mental. And now came a trial to Marion. 
 She had never been seen with Helen while living — had never 
 been with her except on two or three occasions till her sick- 
 ness ; but now that Helen was dead, she must publicly sit 
 with her husband as a mourner for her. A mourner for her 
 
SACniFICED ON THE JIOn:,ION ALTAR. 145 
 
 husband's other wife! She was expected to mourn becauso 
 the cause of her sufferhig almost unto death was removed — 
 to mourn because the one who had robbed her of her hue- 
 band's afl'ection was be^'ond the power to v/ound nor further. 
 Her husband, she knew, really grieved for Helen in a meas- 
 ure; but as she thought of the time when his very soul 
 seemed rent by the loss of their little Elsie, she could not 
 but feel to thank God that he did not mourn for Helen as ho 
 had for their babe. Little Marion and her sister Nell had 
 never met before, but now, with one clinging tearfully to iicr 
 father's hand, and the other wonderingiy walking by her 
 mother's side, they together went through with the scenes 
 which in their future lives, as they looked back to child- 
 hood's days, were the first they could remember. The father 
 lifted Nell to look at her mother lying so cold and still. 
 "^lamma, mamma! Do vv'ake up! Do take Nelli" she 
 cried, but no human pov/er could wake Helen now. Little 
 IMarion, on seeing her father lift Nell, turned to her mother 
 and said: "Mamma, lift me, too, please. Mayon wants to 
 see." But the mother did not grant her little one's request ; 
 slie could not bear to impress upon the child's mind a sight 
 of the cold dead face of lier father's other wife. Her early 
 impressions she would not cloud with the horrors of polyg- 
 amy, and she felt thankful that her little son was prevented 
 from being there by a slight sickness. As she stood looking 
 for the last time at Helen, all feelings of resentment had died 
 in her heart. Slie could not hate the dead ; she could only 
 pity and forgive. She mourned that she had cherished such 
 feelings towards one who, though the occasion of her misery, 
 was yet not to blame that she had been the one selected to 
 supplant her in her husband's affections. It v\'as not her 
 l-iult that hatred had existed between them. Poor Helen 1 
 And now Clarion asked God's forgiveness for the sin of 
 hating her husband's wife. But other feelings of a confiiet- 
 10 
 
146 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 ing nature entered her heart now. As she saw how tenderly 
 and affectionately her husband led or carried little Nell ; 
 how sweetly trustful she was in him, as her arms were wound 
 about his neck and her cheek lay against his, how slie 
 mourned for the estrangement that forbid any such famil- 
 iarity between him and her little one ! She felt again the 
 old jealousy for Helen's baby, and rejoiced that Nell was not 
 to become one of her family. And as she passed on and 
 realized that she and her husband had beheld his second 
 wife for the last time on earth, in spite of herself a sense of 
 relief came over her. A load seemed lifted from her heart. 
 She felt free. Her husband was again hers, and hers 
 alone. Helen could never come between them now, and 
 Marion was surprised and shocked as she found that her 
 heart was being lifted up towards the lightness of other days. 
 Was it mockery for her to be there, and was it a sin for her 
 to rejoice in her freedom? Marion felt that it was, and con- 
 scientiously and self-reproachfully tried to crush such un- 
 worthy sentiments. But she could not. She was human. 
 God never gave pure womanly instincts to his creatures — 
 filled their very souls with a sense of right and wrong, and 
 then required them to crush these God-given instincts. And 
 Marion's struggle to that effect was in vain, and only filled 
 her heart with a tumult of conflicting emotions, till she was 
 almost unconscious of what was going on about her. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 147 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ITTLE NELL was sent to her mother's sister, in adis- 
 ^ tant part of the Territory, and Elder Nortlifield's second 
 home was broken up. Now he had one home, one wife, one 
 family to care for, and as time passed- on he realized much 
 more comfort than he had done in the divided state of mat- 
 rimon3\ He missed his favorite daughter, but little Marion, 
 or Mayon, as they now called her since she had given her- 
 self that name, was becoming less sh}^ of her father, and by 
 degrees lost her fear of him. But she did not love him as 
 she did her mother and brother, and he knew it; but still 
 he became more and more fond of her as she grew older and 
 more beautiful every j^ear. Her large dark eyes were full 
 of light and beauty at times, and again, if anything saddened 
 her, they were filled wuth the most mournful and often re- 
 proachful expression. Her complexion was like a ripe peach, 
 and glowed with the beauty of health, and her hair hung 
 down her shoulders in a shower of dark curls, and clustered 
 about her forehead in little rings which all the combing and 
 wetting in the world could not straighten. But her beauty 
 was not all external. She was full of the graces of a beauti- 
 ful childhood, winning the love of whoever knew her, lirst 
 by her personal attractions, then by the loveliness of her 
 disposition. Mayon had one peculiar characteristic, that of 
 changing suddenly from the gayest of moods, the liveliest 
 frolic, to a strange sadness unaccountable to her parents. 
 At such times she would always seek her mother, lay her 
 head in her lap, and sometimes would even sob and cry 
 
148 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 without being aljle to give any reason for it. Then as sud- 
 denly her mood would change again, and instantly her tears 
 would be dashed away, and, with face radiant as though re- 
 freshed by a summer shower, she would dart awa}^ to hg: 
 play. She had the sweetest of childish voices, and her 
 mother delighted in training it to sing the songs she learned 
 in her younger days. 
 
 Forest was now a manly little fellow, long ago having 
 been relieved of his golden ringlets, which were lovingly and 
 tearfully laid aside as a tribute to his baby days. The 
 dresses and little half-worn shoes had been put away for 
 '' clothes like papa's " and boots. He was very fond of his 
 mother and Mayon, but his father was chief among ten 
 thousand to him, and his greatest pleasure was to be with 
 him — his greatest ambition to be like him. His father had 
 more influence over him than his mother or sister, and for 
 his sake more than for Mayon's, Mrs. Northfield longed and 
 prayed that he might see his error and free himself from his 
 fanatical belief in Mormonism. She had faith that she could 
 mould Mayon's mind as she wished, and, like another 
 mother, so this one determined that her little girl should 
 never be a Mormon's wife. Her future life was decided upon 
 by lier mother. If her own life must be spent in Mormon- 
 ism, then in the future there was in store for her a separa- 
 tion from this dearest treasure, for cost what it miglit to her, 
 Mayon must never suffer as she had suffered. She must go 
 into the Gentile world wlicn her childhood days were over, 
 and somewhere tliere would be a place for her and a liappy 
 home which no counsel cr command of man could blight. 
 
 She had tried unsuccessfully to save Francis and Edith 
 Parker from Mormonism ; she would succeed in her plan 
 with her own child. With this end, this separation in view, 
 did this mother bravely rear her little one. She taught her 
 all she could (and Mayon proved an apt scholar), cultivated 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 149 
 
 her every gift, and especially her talent for music, and tried 
 hv every means in her power to render her treasure more 
 valuable, her gem more bright, only to part with it at last. 
 This project of Marion's was kept a secret from every human 
 being. She sometimes felt that she was acting as a traitor 
 to her husband in secretly planning the escape of their 
 daughter from ^lormonism, but she was sure a knowledge 
 of her scheme by him would be fatal to its fulfilment. His 
 sense of duty in the matter would outweigh every other con- 
 sideration, and Mayon would be forced to remain in Mor- 
 nionism, and in all probability would suffer the horrors of 
 Dolygamy. Anything was better than that; even death 
 •would she have preferred for her little one. And Mayon 
 •was growing up, all unconscious of the fate her mother was 
 preparing for her, for she tried by every means in her power 
 to render her strong in body and mind and self-reliant, and 
 to give her all the knowledge of the Gentile world that it 
 was in her power to do, that when the dreaded time came, 
 •when she must send her forth from her protecting arm, she 
 might be competent if need be to make her own way in 
 the world. She would have been glad to have sought the 
 society of what few Gentiles there were in the city, but that 
 would have been to attract the attention of the authorities, 
 and after her attempt at making apostates of the little Par- 
 kers, would have excited their suspicions of her intentions 
 with regard to her own children. She now had a little 
 school in her own family and taught Forest and Mayon 
 much more than Mormon children usually learned of books. 
 In one branch, however, they were sadly deficient — that was 
 of the doctrines and teachings of their religion. She en- 
 tirely neglected this branch of instruction, the one con- 
 sidered the most important ; but Elder Northfield tried to be 
 faithful in this matter, and imparted much moral and doc- 
 trinal instruction to his young son. Forest accepted as 
 
150 ET.DER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 eagerly all his father said, as his father had accepted the 
 teachings of Mormonisii^ in his younger days, and he was 
 as devoted a little Mormon as his father might wisli, and 
 inherited his missionary zeal to such an extent as to exer- 
 cise it upon his sister upon all possible occasions. AVhen 
 quite small he would mount a chair and with May on for 
 his audience, would proceed to proclaim to her the myste- 
 ries of the revelations and doctrines of the Latter-Day 
 Saints. Plis gestures amused her, his earnestness inspired 
 her with awe, and her admiration for liim kept her such an 
 attentive audience that Forest thought he had made a deep 
 impression upon her. He longed for the time to come when 
 he should be a man and stand in the pulpit and preach to 
 an attentive throng as Brigham Young now did. He de- 
 lighted in reciting poems or speeches to as great an audi- 
 ence as he could command, or even to an imaginary audi- 
 ence. Mayon, with her dolls, her kitten, and her bird, 
 always formed a part of these audiences, and sometimes the 
 w^hole. There was no doubt that Forest had a talent for 
 public speaking, and liis father look great pride in his son's 
 proclivities, but to his motlier they were a source of trouble. 
 She believed he was destined to exercise a great influence 
 over others, and the indications now were that he would 
 wie'd that influence to perpetuate ]Mormonism in all its 
 frauds. As he grew older he began to take Mayon aside 
 and teach her the doctrines he had learned from his father's 
 lips, until her mind would be full of wonder at the remarka- 
 ble visions and revelations God had sent to men, and her 
 large eyes would dilate with fear, as Forest portrayed the 
 great battle which was coming on the earth between the 
 Saints of the Most High and the wicked Gentiles. Forest 
 enjoyed the impression he made upon his sister's mind ex- 
 ceedingly, but he was not aware how deep was the effect of 
 his words. Much of the time she seemed to have a half- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 151 
 
 frightened appearance, and developed a timidity altogether 
 new to her. Her mother watched this new trait with anxiety 
 and wonder. At last, however, she discovered the cause. 
 
 One morning Mayon awoke screaming with terror. As 
 soon as she could be calmed enough to say anything she 
 exclaimed : " 0, mamma ! I've had a vision ! " 
 
 "A vision, my child ! " 
 
 " Yes, mamma, a vision. I saw God coming down from 
 heaven with a great sword in his hand, and he went into 
 the Gentile world, and all the little Gentile children were 
 running away from him and begging him not to kill them. 
 Then I ran after him to plead for the poor little children, 
 and he raised his sword to strike me, and then I screamed 
 and you came then, mamma. 0, will God destroy all the 
 little Gentile children, mamma ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, Mayon. Why do you think so, and why 
 do you call your bad dream a vision ? " 
 
 "0, it is a vision, mamma. Forest told me all about 
 visions, and he says they are always true." 
 
 " Did Forest tell you this, my little girl? " 
 
 "Yes, mamma, and a great deal more that makes me 
 afraid." 
 
 *' Tell me what it is." 
 
 " He says if we don't obey the elders God will destroy us, 
 and that by-and-by all the Mormons will go against all the 
 Gentiles, and they will try to kill each other ; but the Mor- 
 mons will not be killed — the Gentiles will, though, and then 
 there won't be an}^ Gentiles, and there won't be any aunt 
 Elsie, will there, mamma, for you to tell me about? " 
 
 " My poor frightened Mayon, Forest has told you wrong. 
 There will be no such attempt to kill each other as he has 
 told you, and there is no such thing as a vision in these 
 days." 
 
 " But, mamma, papa told Forest so himself; but I did not 
 
152 ELDER XORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 think I should liave a vision ; I was afraid of it though. 0, 
 mamma, I think visions is dreadful ! " 
 
 What could the mother say now to her child? These 
 frightful assertions had their origin from her father's lips, 
 although they had become somewhat distorted in coming to 
 Mayon. How could that mother tell her child that her 
 father's teachings Avere false, and thus destroy the little 
 faith and trust she had worked so hard to establish in her 
 little one? How could she bear that the Mormon doctrines 
 and hideous beliefs should be instilled into Mayon's mind 
 to terrify her young heart? It was hard enough to see that 
 her loved son was growing up a willing victim to the delu- 
 sions of his father's fliith — that he would no doubt be the 
 cause of misery to some woman or women — without sacri- 
 ficing her little girl too. 
 
 " Mayon," she said, " Forest did not quite understand 
 papa. He did not mean exactly as Forest told you; and 
 what you saw w^as a bad, naughty dream, and no vision at 
 all." 
 
 "And won't God kill the little Gentile children ? " 
 
 "No, my dear; God loves little children, no matter 
 whether they are Mormon or Gentile, and He will take 
 them in his arms and bless them." 
 
 "O, mamma, don't let Him take me in His arms! I am 
 afraid of Him." 
 
 " No, darling, mamma will keep you from all harm." 
 
 " But didn't papa say that God would destroy all the little 
 Gentile children? Forest said he did." 
 
 What could ]\Iarion say now? Her husband had told her 
 son what she w^as now denying to their daughter. The 
 father was making assertions which the mother contradicted. 
 How w\as family government, parental confidence, and do- 
 mestic harmony to prevail, with matters in such a state ? 
 Marion saw that the situation was indeed deplorable. She 
 
SACPvIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 153 
 
 did not answer Ma^^on's question; and Mayon, after waiting 
 in vain for an answer, said : 
 
 " I'll ask papa, and lie will tell me." 
 
 I.Irs. North field hoped, however, that she would forget 
 about it by the time her father returned, for he had gone on 
 a visit to his little daughter Nell. But Mayon did not for- 
 get, and almost the first thing she said to him was : 
 
 " Papa, did you tell Forest that God would destroy all the 
 little Gentile children?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear; why do you ask? " 
 
 "Mamma said Forest didn't understand you, and that 
 God loved all little children, and would not kill any of them. 
 0, papa! don't let God kill those poor little children." 
 
 And Mayon's quivering lips and pent-up tears could be 
 controlled no longer. She sobbed and cried, and her father 
 took her in his arms and endeavored to soothe her. 
 
 " My little girl," said he, " God knows what is best, and 
 my ]\Iayon will be safe in his fold, and the little Gentile chil- 
 dren will be saved, too, if they come into His Church." 
 
 "But, papa, who told you so? and why did mamma say 
 it wasn't so?" 
 
 " The men God sent told me so, and mamma denied it be- 
 cause she doesn't believe it." 
 
 " ! well then, I guess, papa, I don't b'leeve, too. I think 
 those men that said so are naughty men, 'cause mamma 
 caid God loves little children ; and papa, do you love little 
 children ?" 
 
 "Yes, Mayon, I do." 
 
 "And you wouldn't want to kill the little children, would 
 you ? " 
 
 "No, Mayon." 
 
 "Then God wouldn't, would He? I guess, papa, those 
 men told you wrong, 'cause mamma knows, and she said it 
 wasn't a vision — only a bad, naughty dream.'' 
 
154 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 "Why, Mayon, Avliat did you see in your dream?" 
 ,Mayon then told her dream, and lier father wisely led the 
 conyersation to other matters, and soon she slipped away 
 from him, saying: 
 
 "Please, papa, don't tell us or any little children what 
 those naughty men said, it makes me so afraid." 
 
 And well she might be afraid of a belief, called a religion, 
 which had brought, was bringing, and would in the future 
 bring untold misery to her sex. 
 
 Mrs. Northfield now felt that something must be done to 
 prevent the recurrence of such scenes. She talked with her 
 husband on the subject. Elder Northfield wished to bring 
 up his children in his own religion, and his wife dared not 
 allow him to suspect her determination with regard to 
 Mayon 's future. But they agreed that the teachings of one 
 must not contradict the statements of the other. If hus- 
 band and wife could not agree in this point, each must make 
 some concession in fayor of the other. 
 
 So they at last agreed that to Marion should be giyen the 
 religious training of their daughter, while the son should be 
 instructed by his father. Thus Marion was bound, to save 
 ISIayon from false teachings, to allow her son to grow up de- 
 ceiving and being deceived ; to allow^ him to be blinded by 
 ]\[ormon absurdities and make no effort to remove the scales 
 from his eyes. How she wished that he was again the little 
 innocent child that fled with her on that terriljle night from 
 their home, that she might have kept him ignorant as he 
 then was of all the superstitions and depravity of Mormon- 
 ism, and that she might have always moulded his mind as 
 she could then. She Avas very sad as she realized the situa- 
 tion ; but even if she could have been allowed to teach her 
 son, in all probability .her influence would have been una- 
 vailing against his father's. 
 
 He was a beautiful boy, full of noble qualities, and he did 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 155 
 
 not realize that his preaching and teaching were having such 
 a painful effect on liis sister, or he would have spared her 
 sensitive feelings. Now, however, he was forl)idden to speak 
 to Mayon on the suhject of JMormon religion, and it Avas 
 never broached in her presence by any member of the fam- 
 ily. If introduced by herself, no encouragement was given 
 her to ask questions, and after a time her interest died away, 
 although she did not entirely forget her " vision." 
 
 Mrs. Northfield had come to realize that there could be 
 no real happiness for her in the Mormon world. As long as 
 her husband remained a believer in Mormonism, so long 
 would her life be clouded by its effects. There was reason 
 to believe he would be a Mormon till he died, and therefore 
 she could see no great brightness in the world for her. But 
 she had much to comfort and give her peace now in her do- 
 mestic relations. Her husband was again devoted to her, 
 and lier children were a source of pride and pleasure. She 
 might escape any great sorrow, her heart might never again 
 be wrung by its former anguish, but yet there was always 
 the fear in her soul that polygamy would again send its 
 crushing influence to plunge her into her former darkness. 
 The effects of her past misery were lasting, and never, under 
 any circumstances, could she have gained her old lightness 
 of heart. The wound might heal, but the scar disappear, 
 never. 
 
 Another source of sorrow, unknown, unsuspected by any 
 one, was the separation that she had decreed, in her own 
 mind, should take place between herself and daughter. As 
 long as she could keep her with her, she would, but when 
 the time came, as it would, alas, too soon, that others should 
 seek to link Mayon's destiny irrevocably with Mormonism, 
 then she must send her darling forth alone, and her home 
 would be desolate. 
 
156 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 Marion had not seen little Nell since she was sent to her 
 mother's sister, at the age of three years. She knew nothing 
 of her beyond what her husband told her of his occasional 
 visits, but after the lapse of several years she was to renew 
 her acquaintance with the child in a way she had not ex- 
 pected. Helen's sister died suddenly, and her friends sent 
 word to Elder Northfield to that effect; also, that Kell was 
 unprovided for, and he was requested to immediately assume 
 the responsibility of her care or instruct them how to proceed 
 with reference to her. 
 
 The way seemed now to open to bring his little daughter 
 home, and the fatlicr was glad that it was so, for his affection 
 for Nell was still strong; but how^ would his wife receive 
 her? Would she be willing to take Helen's child into her 
 home? He stated the facts to Marion ; nobly she answered, 
 
 "Bring the motherless child home with you, and I will 
 try to be a good mother to her." 
 
 She feared she never could love Nell very much, but she 
 could at least be kind and fulfil a mother's duty towards 
 her. 
 
 So Nell came to them, and Mayon had a playfellow and 
 her mother a new care. Mayon received Nell warmly, for 
 she had few playmates of her own age, as her mother wished 
 to keep her secluded as much as was possible from tlieir 
 Mormon surroundings. Nell proved to be a bright, win- 
 some child, when all her moods and whims were indulged, 
 but her temper was almost ungovernable if slie was thwarted 
 or crossed in her desires. She was very selfish, and of an 
 envious, jealous disposition. To offset these defects, how- 
 ever, she was extremely affectionate and kind at intervals, 
 and became much attached to Mayon. But in spite of Nell's 
 fondness for her, Mayon suffered much from her unevenness 
 of disposition, and her little heart was often grieved by 
 Nell's unkindness. The latter would sometimes seek to 
 
SACKIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 157 
 
 make up for her wrong to her half-sister b}' a spasm of gen- 
 erosity, which would make all riaht again. 
 
 Nell was a pretty child, with light-brown hair and keen 
 gray eyes. Her face had a bright, piquant look, v.'hich at- 
 tracted people, and although the beauty and regularity of 
 Mayon's features were missing in her, yet slie had a certain 
 beauty of her own. She had been brought up so far in true 
 IMormon ignorance, and could scarcely read at all, while 
 ]\Iayon could read well, and had advanced beyond most 
 children of her age, even in Gentile society, in her knowl- 
 edge of arithmetic and geography. In geography she was 
 esi)ecially interested and well informed, as her mother pointed 
 out to her on the maps her native country, the course she 
 took in sailing from it. New York, her aunt Elsie's home, 
 and the entire Gentile world, and told her of its people, its 
 manners and customs. 
 
 Mayon was also beginning to" be an apt music scholar. 
 Her father had procured her an organ — a luxury enjoyed by 
 few Mormon children — and he Avas gratified to see that she 
 was making good use of her opportunities. She was very 
 ambitious, and her love for books was only equalled by her 
 love for music. As his two little daughters were brought 
 together. Elder Northfield did not fail to note a wide differ- 
 ence between them in every respect. The culture thjit 
 Mayon's mind had received from her mother gave an acute- 
 ness of intelligence to her that was lacking in Nell. Their 
 dispositions, too, were so totally unlike that often by com- 
 parison Nell became positively disagreeable. Nell did not 
 bring as much happiness to her father's home as he had ex- 
 pected, and not being opposed to education, as njost Mor- 
 mons were, he could see that Mayon's superiority lay to a 
 deirree in the cultivation she had received from her mother 
 in both mind and heart. He desired the same advantages 
 for Nell, and as they could not be obtained outside of his 
 
158 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 own home, Marion granted liis request and undertook first 
 to teach Nell to read. She proved a dull scholar, and was a 
 great trial to her foster-mother. The latter felt that she 
 was robbing her own child of time that would otherwise be 
 devoted to her, and as only a few years more could be hers 
 to care for and teach Mayon, she could not willinglv devote 
 her time to Nell with no apparent good result. Nell was 
 ver}' capricious and could not be made to study hard by any 
 means whatever. She often was very rebellious and caused 
 Mrs. Northfield a great deal of trouble. The latter was dis- 
 couraged, and her husband became discouraged also. Nell 
 was a perverse, wilful child, who wanted her own way en- 
 tirely, but given that, she could make herself very winsome 
 and sweet. Thus it came about that she was left ver\^ much 
 to her own sweet will and therefore appeared to much better 
 advantage. 
 
 Marion had given up all society as far as was possible to 
 do without neglecting her duty to her husband, but one in- 
 stitution, namely, the theatre, she assiduously attended 
 with Mayon, young as she was. Her husband nearly always 
 accompanied her, and now Nell went with them wlienever 
 she wished. Elder Northfield often wondered at his wife s 
 fondness for the theatre to the exclusion of every other 
 amusement, and also at her habit of taking Maj^on always, 
 when on all other occasions she insisted on the child's early 
 retiring^. He did not know that she was educatins; her for a 
 Gentile life, and desired to make her familiar with the Gen- 
 tile scenes which were portrayed on the stage. Her means 
 were so limited for teaching her Gentile beliefs, manners and 
 customs that none must be slighted, and many pleasant 
 thoughts Avere awakened in Mayon's mind, many agreeable 
 impressions formed concerning the Gentile world. This was 
 as her mother intended. Although it would not do for her 
 to openly speak to her against Mormonism and in favor of 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 159 
 
 Gentile life, yet she could and did constantly throw around 
 her little unseen influences which were doing their work. 
 As long as was possible she had kept her daughter ignorant 
 of the existence of polygamy, but now she nad arrived at 
 the age when, with it all around her, she could not fail to 
 notice the plurality of wives and contrast it with the Gentile 
 custom in that respect as it was portrayed by the theatre, 
 by the few books Marion had been able to put in her hands, 
 and by her mother's description of life in the Gentile world. 
 Of the misery of polygamy she knew nothing, and was too 
 young to realize its existence. 
 
160 ELDER NOniHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BETWEEN Elder Xorthfield and his wife thero seldom 
 passed any words with reference to polygam\'. Each 
 felt that it was a painful subject to be avoided by them, as 
 they could never agree upon it. ]Marion had no means of 
 knowing whether her husband ever contemplated again en- 
 tering into the patriarchal order of marriage. She was con- 
 stantly in fear of it, however, but never for one moment did 
 she think of interceding to prevent such a calamity again 
 coming upon her, or of obtaining his promise to the con- 
 trary. She knew he would never bind himself again to a 
 course th-it might conflict with his sense of duty, and even 
 if he would, she had learned from past experience that such 
 promises would avail nothing. So she could only wait, and 
 fear, and hope, and accept her fate, whatever it might be. 
 She would not have been surprised at any time had he told 
 her he was thinking of taking another wife, but she was not 
 prepared for the announcement that he one day made to 
 her that on the morrow he was to be married. Marion 
 heard her husband, but she did not comprehend him. The 
 blow fell so suddenly, so heavily, that it shattered her reason 
 for tlie time. 
 
 '' ^larried — married, did you say? Vvlio is to be mar- 
 ried ? " 
 
 " I am to be married, my dear wife ; don't you understand^ 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, I do. I know you were married. I remember it 
 well. I gave her to you, but I thought she was dead." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 161 
 
 "Helen is dead, Marlon, but I am going to take another 
 wife to-morrow. Marion ! Marion ! why do you look at me 
 so? My poor, dear wife! Believe me, I pity you. I have 
 l'>ut this off as long as I could for your sake." And now he 
 threw his strong arms around her, and pressed her lips with 
 kisses. But slie heeded them not. " I have not told you," 
 he continued, "because I wouhi not pain you sooner than 
 need be. I could not bear that you should know what was 
 coming and suffer in anticipation. So I let you be happy 
 as long as I could, Marion, and as it could not be helped, 
 why should I tell you before? It is not my wish to do this, 
 but my duty ; and my love is all your own. I will not for- 
 sake you as I did once for another. Marion ! Marion ! 
 speak to me ! " 
 
 But Marion could not speak. She did not hear his sad 
 tones as he tried to soften the effects of the blow he had 
 dealt her. He looked into her face, white and immovable 
 as death, and exclaimed : 
 
 "My God ! have I killed her? " 
 
 But she had only fainted, and though it was long before 
 *jhe could be brought back to consciousness, yet at last she 
 opened her eyes and at sight of her husband bending over 
 her, anxiously watching for a token of returning life, she 
 turned her face aside and groaned. 
 
 "Marion," said he. 
 
 " Don't speak to me ! " she cried. " Don't look at me ! I 
 can't bear it! I expected it, but not Hke this— not thus 
 suddenly. Henry Northfield, you either do not love your 
 wife, or you are crazy ! Yes, crazy with Mormonism ! I 
 could not comprehend what you said at first. Now, I do. 
 I have dreaded it these years, and expected to be al>le to 
 bear it, but now to think of living over the old misery worse 
 than death. I find I cannot bear it, and I will not. If I 
 must be wretched, I will be wretched somewhere else. 
 11 
 
162 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 Henry, I'll go to-morrow to the Endowment House and give 
 you another wife, and then you may bring her here, devote 
 yourself to her, and make her happy, till duty compels you 
 to take another, and I will go. One wife is enough at a 
 time. Yes, I will take Mayon, and we will go somewhere 
 among the Gentiles. We will separate. We can never be 
 happy together again — we will not try. But my boy ! My 
 Forest ! How can I part with ' him ! O, why was I ever 
 created to be so wretched ! " 
 
 " Marion, is Forest the only tie that would bind you here ? 
 Have you no love for your husband? Pity me, my wife, 
 and believe that my heart aches for you, and that I feel my 
 load is hard to bear, but God does not willingly afflict. 
 Marion, do you wish to leave me ? " 
 
 Marion could not answer. At last she said : " I must 
 leave you. I feel that I shall go mad if I stay. Would to 
 God I had never loved you ! " 
 
 This thrust cut into her husband's very soul. He felt that 
 he did not deserve it. He would not willingly have given 
 the slightest pain to his wife and sought by every means to 
 make her happy, only he had placed his duty to God and 
 religion first, and when that duty conflicted with his happi- 
 ness he had sacrificed the latter. He was very wretched 
 now, and dis«.ppointed at the violence of her grief. He had 
 thought that a second trial of this kind would not seem so 
 hard as the first. He believed something in the Mormon 
 theory of "getting used to it," but he did not know a 
 woman's heart. He did not know that a second crushing 
 blow was more terrible in its effects than the first. 
 
 " Marion," said he, " let me tell you about the one I have 
 chosen, and I think you will feel better about it." 
 
 " No need of telling me ; I care for only one thing. Tell 
 rae that, please, and no more. Will she be kind to 
 Forest?" 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 163 
 
 " I am sure she will." 
 
 *'And if not, you will be; and he is not a little child now, 
 or I could not leave him. Perhaps I shall come back again, 
 some time. But tell me one thing more : Henry, will you be 
 happy with her when I am gone? I do not want you to be 
 miserable," and a shade of tenderness came into Marion's 
 voice as she asked this question. 
 
 " Happy ! Happy without you, Marion ? Never ! Do 
 you realize that you are the only one on earth that I love ? 
 I never have spoken to this young woman but four or five 
 times in my life. I never have whispered one word of love 
 to her. I asked her to be my wife, for I was obliged to ask 
 some one, and after much thought she has consented. Happy 
 with her alone ! Marion, do not think of leaving me ; I 
 cannot let you go ! You must not leave me." 
 
 And tightly her husband clasped her hand in his. Marion 
 struggled to free herself, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Stop ! Do not dare to keep me ! I must go ! I must 
 go!" 
 
 " Marion, we will put off the marriage till you feel better." 
 
 " I never shall feel better, here. You shall not put the 
 day off; the sooner it is over the better ! Do not fear that 
 I shall make a scene, Henry ; I shall be very calm then, and 
 she will never know what I suffer." 
 
 In vain did Elder Northfield strive to persuade his wife 
 to relinquish the idea she had conceived, or to allow him to 
 postpone his marriage. He would have insisted on the lat- 
 ter, however, if he had believed that she would adhere to 
 her determination. But he relied on her calmer considera- 
 tion of the matter, and her affection for him, to change her 
 determination, and preparations for the marriage went on 
 accordingly. 
 
 Mrs. Northfield scarcely realized her situation. She was 
 not quite herself. One thing impressed itself upon her mind 
 
164 ELDER NORTIIFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 to the exclusion of evcrytliing else: she was to save Mayon 
 from Mormonisni, much sooner than she had expected. She 
 was to go witli her herself to the Gentile world. After all, 
 tlie mucli dreaded separation was never to take place. Ma3'on 
 should be hers alwa3"s. Her beautiful, darling child was not 
 to be sent into the wide world alone, but she was going with 
 her, and together they would escape from this hateful place. 
 One idea filled her mind, and that was their departure from 
 Mormonism. She spent what little time remained in pre^ 
 paring for her departure. She sent to Mrs. Atwood's, asking 
 the gift of the picture of herself and husband, and then clip- 
 j^ing a tress from among her golden locks, which were still 
 beautiful, though of a paler hue now, and one long, shining 
 curl from Mayon 's head, she placed them, with the picture, 
 where he would find them on first entering the house after 
 liis marriage, saying to herself: 
 
 " He shall not think I went away hating him. If he 
 should grieve for us these little tokens will comfort him." 
 
 The next day Mayon came to her father with a tearful 
 face. 
 
 " Papa," said she, " are you going to get another w^ife, 
 to-day ? " 
 
 ''Yes, Mayon, and she will come home with me to-night. 
 iHow did you know ? Has mamma told you ? " 
 * " No, Forest told me. I go to mamma and she hardly 
 speaks to me, and looks so sad and miserable, and I saw her 
 wipe away some tears this morning, and she shuts herself 
 into her room and into my room, and doesn't let me come 
 in when I ask her. T sat down and cried a little while ago, 
 and Forest came and asked me what I was crying for, and 
 I told him, and asked him what ailed mamma, and he said 
 you were going to get another wife to-day, and that was 
 what she was crying about. Papa, please don't get another 
 wife; it makes mamma feel so bad. We don't want another 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 165 
 
 mother, and you can't be mamma's husband and hers, too. 
 Isn't mamma a good enough wife, papa?" 
 
 ''Yes, child, too good for me to have/' 
 
 "Is that why you are getting another, then, papa? Do 
 you want tlie new one to do the work and teacliir.g mamma 
 does, so that mamma can go out with you, and always bo 
 dressed nice, and have time to play with us all she wishes? 
 That wouldn't be so bad, but mamma doesn't want her at 
 all, so please— i)lease, papa, don't get her." 
 
 Elder Northfield had listened till he could hear no more, 
 and untwining her arms from his neck, he put her away 
 from him and hastily left the house. 
 
 At the appointed hour Marion accompanied her husband 
 to the Endowment House, not, however, without first throw- 
 ing her arms- around his neck and sobbing like a child, with 
 her head on his shoulder. 
 
 She that day gave him another wife, sealed unto herself 
 a new doom of misery, and hardly knew what she did. She 
 had no interest in the bride, and scarcely saw her or any- 
 thing else. She felt bewildered. Only one thing w^as clear 
 to her: her carriage was to be ready at her door for an im- 
 mediate start towards some Gentile settlement she knew the 
 location of, and she and Mayon were to leave Mormonism 
 forever. But suddenly, as she comprehended some words 
 o'i the closhig part of the ceremony, she became faint, end 
 fell to the floor. 
 
 Her husband, their husband he was then, left his bride's 
 side and lifted her with all the tenderness he would have 
 felt had she fainted on her own wedding-day. 
 
 And now came a blank in Mrs. Northfield's life; a long 
 blank to which in the future she looked back with the feel- 
 ing that a part of her life had been lost to her. 
 
 Her first rational impression, after the ordeal passed in the 
 
1G6 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 Endowment House, was of a small, diml3'-lighted room, 
 plainly furnished, but so pure and neat, with its white mus- 
 lin curtains, its little round table, with its vase of flowers, 
 two or three chairs — one an easy-chair — and the bed of spot- 
 less purity, on which she la3^ She had one glimpse of the 
 outer world through a half-closed shutter. Instead of look^ 
 ing through an open window at summer skies and verdant 
 foliage, as she last saw the face of nature, the window was 
 now closed, a fire was burning in an open grate, and the 
 trees that swayed in the wind were leafless. She compre- 
 hended that time had passed unconsciously to her. She 
 looked about on her surroundings, felt the sweet soothing 
 influences around her, and dropped into a light slumber. 
 
 Again she awoke, and then all the past came back to her. 
 She was doubtless somewhere in the Gentile world, escaped 
 at last from Mormonism. But where was she? and how did 
 she come there? who was so kindly caring for her? and 
 where was Mayon? Then she thought of her home in Salt 
 Lake City, and of her husband living in their old home with 
 his new wife. She wondered if he missed her and ^layon — 
 if he found the keepsakes she left for him, and cherished 
 them for love of his dear ones. 
 
 Again she slept, and on again awaking, a new charm had 
 been added to her room. Drawn up before the fire was the 
 easy-chair, and in it the familiar form of Edith Parker. 
 Edith had become a woman now, and all through her child- 
 hood and youth had been one of Marion's few friends. The 
 calm purity that pervaded the room was now increased by 
 the sweet pale face of Edith, which had never outgrown the 
 look of sadness it had worn in her childhood. 
 
 " Edith," said Mrs. Northfield, " I am glad you came too; 
 but where is Mayon?" 
 
 Edith's face lit up with glad surprise, as she turned toward 
 the bed and said : 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 167 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Northfield, I am so glad j^ou are better. May on 
 is ill the next room, and you shall see her if you will promise 
 not to talk any more now." 
 
 Marion felt like a willing and obedient child under the 
 influence of sweet Edith Parker, and she gave the desired 
 promise. Edith left the room and soon returned with 
 Mayon, who, fearful of disturbing her mother, came in 
 noiselessly, but with a face radiant with happiness. 
 
 " Mamma, darling," said she, as she laid her face beside 
 her mother's, "you know your Mayon now, don't you? I 
 have mourned so because you did not know your little girl, 
 and would not have her with you, but they let me come in 
 when you were asleep, and watch you, and I did love to 
 do even that, mamma." 
 
 But the mother forgot her promise not to talk, and Edith 
 saw she was tiring herself with Mayon, so she gently per- 
 suaded her to send her away, and so weak was the sufferer 
 that she was now exhausted by her excitement. 
 
 Days passed, and she remained so weak that she could 
 scarcely talk at all. She was unconscious much of the time, 
 but at intervals her mind was clear, though it partook of 
 the feebleness of the whole body. As she lay there watch- 
 ing Edith glide in and out, felt her soft touch on her throb- 
 bing brow, listened to her sweet voice, as she spoke in low 
 tones words of cheer and affection, she seemed to Marion 
 like a ministering angel sent to guard her in her life in a 
 new world. 
 
 " Edith," said she one day, " your mother is looking down 
 from heaven and rejoicing now to know that at last her 
 little girl has escaped from what she called a 'hell upon 
 earth.' I did not think when I tried to grant her request 
 and send you into the Gentile world that you would wait 
 and go with me — that we should escape together." 
 
 Edith turned to hide her face from the speaker, but did 
 
168 ELBEPv NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 not reply. As soon as the latter gained strength she spoko 
 again : 
 
 "I vronder sometimes where I am, but have felt too weak 
 to ask or to care as long as I knew Mayon and I were safe 
 i:i the Gentile world and 3'ou were with us; but now, p]dith, 
 tell me how we came here, where we are, and whose house 
 this is? "Who are the kind people who have taken us in ? " 
 
 " We are in one of the pleasar.test of places, and Mrs. Mar- 
 thi is the lady of the house. She is very kind, and glad to 
 know you are improving." 
 
 " Have I been very sick, Edith ? "' 
 
 " Yes, very ; but you have had excellent medical skill, 
 and we have tried to give you the best of care. Now, can 
 you not rest before you talk any more? Your physician 
 says you must be kept very quiet till you grow stronger. 
 Try to be patient, and when you can talk more I will tell 
 you all about it." 
 
 She was obliged to rest, but she did not feel satisfied with 
 the meagre information she received. The next day she 
 said to Edith : 
 
 "Sometimes, when I think it all over, I wish I had not 
 taken this step. I am glad for your sake and Mayon's, but 
 I can never be happy away from my husband. I never 
 could be happy with him, I know nov/, but I know, as I 
 think of it, that he loves me, and I can realize now what 
 pain it cost him to bring this trouble upon me. He did not 
 wish to do it, but was forced into it by his religion. It was 
 not Henry's fault, but the fault of Mormonism. I keep 
 thinking of his assurances that he could not be happy with- 
 out me, and see, as I did not then, how sad he was, and I 
 think I should have pitied ratlier than blame him. If he 
 really was grieved to have me leave him, it was cruel for mo 
 to do so, and I have done worse than he, for I deserted him 
 for my own sake, and he was true in heart to me, though 
 
SACRIFICED OX THE MORMON ALTAR. 169 
 
 compelled to an act of unfaithfulness by the Church. Somc- 
 tinjes I think I will leave INIayon with you and go back to 
 liim if he would take me back. Do you ever hear from him, 
 Edith?" 
 
 " Yes, I have heard of him several times." 
 "And I suppose he brought his wife to our home?" 
 " Yes, he brought her there after the marriage." 
 "Yes, but not till after the carriage I had ordered had 
 taken us away. Is he living happily with her now, do you 
 think, Edith, or do you think he would be j^ktd to have me 
 come back ? " 
 
 " I know he wants you to come back, dear Mrs. North- 
 field, and he is not living with her at all now." 
 ' " Not living with her ! Why not ? Where is she ? " 
 
 " He did not love her, nor she him, and she wished to go 
 away, and so she went and is with her friends." 
 
 "And Henry, and Forest, and Nell are living alone. Edith, 
 I hate that wife. I cannot help it; but not so much as I 
 should if she loved him. O, do you tliink I could possibly 
 go back to him ? He has been so kind to me through it all, 
 and some time I believe he wiil be converted back to the 
 Gentile belief. But, Edith, you do not tell me all I wish to 
 know. You do not answer my questions fully. Tell metlio 
 ^vhole now ; I am strong enough to hear it." 
 
 "If you knew that you could go back to yoar husband 
 to-day, would you be glad to go ? " 
 
 " I would, I think, if I could leave Mayon and you here. 
 I would rather be separated fron^ her sooner than I expected, 
 if I could leave her in your care, than to take her back. I 
 would rather leave her than to continue this separation from 
 my husband ; but if ^Nlayon had to go back with me I should 
 hesitate. But tell me all about our leaving the Mormon 
 world, and where we are; or, Edith," she exclaimed excitedly, 
 as II new suspicion flashed into her mind, "have we not 
 left it at all ? Where are we ? " 
 
170 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 "My dear friend, try to be calm and I will tell you all. 
 We are still in Salt Lake City. You have not had your 
 reason until now for many months, and here was a quieter, 
 better place for you, and so we brought you here." 
 
 " Edith, I know where I am now. I am where your 
 mother once told me I should be— in the insane asylum ! I 
 did not believe it then, but she said it would be so, for I was 
 the wife of a Mormon. 0, Edith! You and Mayon are 
 still victims of this cursed religion. Your mother told me 
 she would take me to her room when I came here. Is this 
 the room that was hers?" 
 
 " Yes, and in your delirium you were constantly calling 
 her to come and take you to her room, so the kind matron 
 gave this room to you." 
 
 '' Why does not my husband come to see me if, as you 
 say, he wants me back again ? " 
 
 "He does come every day; but since your reason returned 
 we thought it not safe for him to see and excite you. He 
 came this morning and brought these flowers, and you 
 should have seen how happy he looked when I told liim 
 you were stronger. You have for the past few weeks been 
 very sick with a fever, and we have all been hoping that 
 when it left you your reason would return, as it has." 
 
 " Tell me, now, why you are with me, and something 
 about the other wife. I would not let Henry tell me any- 
 thing about her." 
 
 " I am with you because I am in a certain sense the cause 
 of your trouble." 
 
 " You the cause of my trouble ! " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, dear friend, can you bear to hear some- 
 thing that will shock you, for I must tell you? " 
 
 " Yes, tell me ! What have you been hiding from me so 
 long?" 
 
 " I am your husband's wife ! " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 171 
 
 "You — Edith — my husband's wife! The woman I hate! 
 No, no ! " 
 
 And Edith feared that reason had again fled as Marion 
 pressed her hands to her brow and her eyes again glowed 
 with the wildnesj of past days. 
 
 " I love 3^ou, Edith, but I hate my husband's wife! God 
 forgive me for it! You and she cannot be the same! It 
 cannot be that you are so far from being safe in the Gentile 
 world as to have become a Mormon's wife ! And my hus- 
 band's wife ! Edith, how you have made me love you in 
 these few days and now you tell me you are the wife I gave 
 to my husband on that terrible day ! Am I again insane or 
 is it true that you have told me ? I cannot bear to believe 
 it, Edith, for I love you, and how can I ever love my hus- 
 band's other wife? O, Edith ! how could you do it? " 
 
 " Let me tell you how, and I am sure you will feel better 
 and calmer about it than you do now. It is a long story, 
 but I think it will interest you. 
 
 " My mother's instructions and influence in favor of the 
 Gentiles never lost their efl*ect upon me. I shall remember 
 to my dying day the repugnance with which I regarded 
 polygamy, as I realized that it had blighted my mother's 
 life and made her the wretched woman she was. She taught 
 me to know the many wrongs which Mormonism brought 
 on my sex, and though too young to fully comprehend her, 
 I have grown up looking upon matrimony in Mormonism 
 as the greatest trouble that could come upon me. But since 
 my father, whom I never could regard with any feeling but 
 aversion for his cruelty to my mother — since he took me to 
 one of his homes, I have expected that sooner or later I 
 should be forced into marriage, as all Mormon girls are. It 
 is a little strange that I have been permitted to wait so long, 
 but it was not without persecution. My father has had 
 several oflers of marriage for me, dating back to my fifteenth 
 
172 ELBri; northfield's home ; on, 
 
 year. All of lliciii I persistently refused to consider, and 
 thus made him very angry. On two occasions he has treated 
 me very cruchy in consequence of my rebellion against his 
 "wishes, but of his wife Carrie I will say that she has acted 
 tlie part of a mother to my brother and nw, and has always 
 been very kind to us. She never urged me to marry ; and I 
 always felt that I was welcome by her to a home, and in- 
 deed, I believe she dreaded losing me, for my father neglected 
 her almost entirely, although providing the means for oar 
 support. I felt ti)at my father wished me off liis hands, 
 and at last I fell sick, as you remember. You may not know 
 that my foster-mother sent for a young Gentile pliysician to 
 attend me, and concerning liim I have a secret to tell you. 
 He was the first Gentile };erson I had ever become acquainted 
 with, and as I grew able to converse I used to ask him all 
 about the Gentile faith and life, and Carrie would join in the 
 conversation. I learned a great deal from them both that 
 made me long to escape from Mormonism. At last my phy- 
 sician ceased to visit me profes3ionall3% but he frequently 
 called in a friendly manner, and I began to look for his 
 visits with a great deal of pleasure. My father knew of my 
 sickness, but he knew very little of the particulars. It was 
 Carrie to whom I owed my care. But at last lie became 
 aware that I was receiving visits from a Gentile, and he very 
 rudely ordered him never to speak to me again. He then 
 forced me to write a letter, which he indited, requesting my 
 friend never to call upon me again, as it would only be a 
 source of trouble to me. I did not realize at the time how 
 great- an outrage this was upon me, for I did not know that 
 my friendship for my Gentile friend was anytliing more than 
 friendship. As weeks passed, hovrever, I realized that ho 
 was dearer to me than any other friend on earth, and my 
 separation from him was very hard to bear. I do not know 
 "whether my love was returned or not, but I have some 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 173 
 
 reason to think it was. I shoukl blush to tell all this to any 
 one but you, but I owe you an unreserved stateiucnt of all 
 that influenced me to marry Elder Northfield, and this was 
 one thing that led to it. Well, my fatlier was so angry at mo 
 and at Carrie for entertaining a Crentile that he declared I 
 should marry the next opportunity. He threatened me with 
 violence if I refused, and so it -was not long before I was 
 persecuted by the attentions of a young man whom I de- 
 tested. I dared not resent his advances, however, for fear 
 of my father, and was obliged to submit to his vehement 
 lovemaking, till at last my father came to me, saying he had 
 had another offer for me, and a much better one, and I was 
 at liberty to choose between the two. So I met Elder North- 
 field, and in a respectful, gentlemanly way, without any pro- 
 fessions of love, he asked me to become his wife. I asked 
 time to consider, and at last consented. Now, I will tell 
 you why I accepted his offer. At first I was shocked at the 
 thought of being the one selected to cause the kind friend 
 of my mother and my childhood the trouble I knew this 
 would cause, and I tried to persuade him for 3'our sake 
 to abandon his purpose of marrying again ; but though he 
 expressed his grief at the necessity of paining you again, yet 
 he assured me that it was his duty to marry, and the ques- 
 tion was not whether he should take a wife or not, but who 
 that wife should be. If I would not accept his offer, ho 
 should seek another ; but he told me that he preferred me 
 to any one else, for the reason that he thought it would give 
 his wife less sorrow, as she was fond of me. He frankly 
 told me that you had his whole heart, and it was only as a 
 matter of duty that he sought another wife ; but, apologizing 
 for making me such an offer, he said he would assure me 
 that all my wants should be carefully provided for. and ho 
 would promise always to be a kind husband if not a devoted 
 one. 
 
174 ST. IVES 
 
 ^•^ Why," said I, ^'^you shave like an angel, Mr. Row- 
 ley!" 
 
 " Thank you, my lord," said he. '' Mr. Fowl had no 
 fear of me. You may be sure, sir, I should never 'ave had 
 this berth if I 'adn^t 'ave been up to Dick. We been ex- 
 pecting of you this month back. My eye ! I never see such 
 preparations. Every day the fires has been kep' up, the 
 bed made, and all I As soon as it was known you were 
 coming, sir, I got the appointment ; and Fve been up and 
 down since then like a Jack-in-the-box. A wheel couldn't 
 sound in the avenue but what I was at the window ! I've 
 had a many disappointments ; but to-night, as soon as you 
 stepped out of the shay, I knew it was my — it was you. 
 0, you had been expected ! Why, when I go down to 
 supper, I'll be the 'ero of the servants' ^all : the 'ole of the 
 staff is that curious ! " 
 
 ^' Well," said I, '' I hope you may be able to give a fair 
 account of me — sober, steady, industrious, good-tempered, 
 and with a first-rate character from my last place ? " 
 
 He laughed an embarrassed laugh. '^Your hair curls 
 beautiful," he said, by way of changing the subject. 
 " The Viscount's the boy for curls, though ; and the rich- 
 ness of it is, Mr. Fowl tells me his don't curl no more than 
 that much twine — by nature. Gettin' old, the Viscount 
 is. He 'ave gone the pace, 'aven't 'e, sir ? " 
 
 '^ The fact is," said I, ^Hhat I know very little about 
 him. Our family has been much divided, and I have been 
 a soldier from a child." 
 
 ** A soldier, Mr. Anne, sir ? " cried Rowley, with a 
 sudden feverish animation. ^' Was yon ever wounded ?" 
 
 It is contrary to my principles to discourage admiration 
 for myself ; and, slipping back the shoulder of the dress- 
 ing-gown, I silently exhibited the scar which I had re- 
 ceived in Edinburgh Castle. He looked at it with awe. 
 
175 
 
 ''Ah, well!" he continued, ''there's where the differ- 
 ence comes in ! It's in the training. The other Viscount 
 have been horse-racing, and dicing, and carrying on all his 
 life. All right enough, no doubt ; but what I do say is, 
 that it don't lead to nothink. Whereas " 
 
 " Whereas Mr. Eowley's ? " I put in. 
 
 "My Viscount ?'' said he. "Well, sir, I did say it; 
 and now that I've seen you, I say it again !" 
 
 I could not refrain from smiling at this outburst, and 
 the rascal caught me in the mirror and smiled to me again. 
 
 " I'd say it again, Mr. Hanne," he said. " I know which 
 side my bread's buttered. I know when a gen'leman's a 
 gen'leman. Mr. Powl can go to Putney with his one ! Beg 
 your pardon, Mr. Anne, for being so familiar," said he, 
 blushing suddenly scarlet, " I was especially warned 
 against it by Mr. Powl." 
 
 " Discipline before all," said I. " Follow your front- 
 rank man." 
 
 With that, we began to turn our attention to the clothes. 
 I was amazed to find them fit so well : not a la diahle, in 
 the haphazard manner of a soldier's uniform or a ready- 
 made suit ; but with nicety, as a trained artist might re- 
 joice to make them for a favourite subject. 
 
 " 'Tis extraordinary," cried I : " these things fit me per- 
 fectly." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Anne, you two be very much of a shape," 
 said Eowley. 
 
 " Who ? What two ? " said I. 
 
 " The Viscount," he said. 
 
 " Damnation ! Have I the man's clothes on me, too ? " 
 cried I. 
 
 But Rowley hastened to reassure me. On the first word 
 of my coming, the Count had put the matter of my ward- 
 robe in the hands of his own and my cousin's tailors ; and 
 
176 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 longed for liis coming, that she miglii, assure liim of lier sor- 
 row and love for him. But he was nearer than she thought. 
 Editli was called out, end returned saying Elder Northiield 
 was at the door and waiting to see his wife, if she was able 
 to benr the interview. Marion signalled for him to come in, 
 and Edith left her, feeling that her presence would be an 
 intrusion. 
 
 Too sacred for pen to descri'^je was the meeting between 
 husband and wife, and the scene must be left for the imagin- 
 ation to paint. 
 
 From this time Mrs. Korthfield rapidly gained in strength, 
 and it was not long before she was able to be removed to 
 her home. Then there was great rejoicing in that reunited 
 fomily. Even Nell had missed lier motherly care, and was 
 very happy at her return. She had been quite lonel}' witli- 
 out Mayon, who had begged so hard to go with her mother, 
 that she could not be denied. 
 
 Edith felt some misgivings now at entering this home a 
 polygamic wife; but she soon settled into her place as assist- 
 ant to her friend and sister-wife in the domestic cares, and 
 in the care of the children. She kept herself secluded, as 
 much as possible, from their husband, avoiding him almost 
 exclusively. Her evenings she spent in her own room, or 
 with the children, never joining Marion when her husband 
 was present. Clarion j)rotesLed against this, but Edith ex- 
 pressed her desire that it should be so, for, although she 
 respected her husband, yet his society revived unpleasant 
 thoughts, and was a source of irritation to her. She wished 
 to live more as a helper in the family and companion to 
 jMarion, than as a wife. She was treated with the utmost 
 kindness by the whole family, and in no respect could Mrs. 
 Northfield look upon her as usurping her rights. Still, had 
 she really been what she seemed — a sister, or merely a dear 
 friend — there would not be the fact for her to realize that 
 
CACr.IFICED ON THI^ jrOP.T.ION ALTAI?. 177 
 
 bIic Vs'as living in polygam}', that licr husband had a,nothcr 
 
 There vrcrc 3'et obstaeles in the way of her ]iap])in(s?, and 
 one unknown to any but herself. INIayon was growing older, 
 and uneonscioush' nearing tlic destiny foreordained for her. 
 The ])rospect of the building of the Great Paeific Railway 
 seemed to open the way for the carr3'ing out of Tvli's. Nortli- 
 field's plan. A most formidable undertaking it seemed for 
 Mayon to attempt such a terrible journey as vrould be neces- 
 sary with the facilities for travelling existing then. How h.er 
 object could be accomplished with personal safety to Mayon, 
 and with security from discovery and pursuit from her father 
 and the Church authorities, was a question the mother had 
 been unable to solve. But she believed a way would bo 
 opened before the time came. Therefore the news of a rail- 
 way to be constructed from ocean to ocean, just at that time, 
 seemed to her like help sent from Heaven. 
 
 Hero was to be provided a Avay of escape for her darling, 
 safe from the perils of the emigrant life, and suTe to succeed 
 in bearing her away from pursuers or enemies. This scheme 
 of Marion's was a heavy burden on her conscience and a 
 weight on her spirits, as she realized that it was deceit and 
 treachery towards her husband. She felt that it was wrong- 
 ing him, to rob him of his daughter just as she bloomed 
 into womanhood, and that in sending her away from her 
 f.itlier's religion and people, she was assuming more than 
 her right in their cliild. She sometimes entertained the 
 thought of confessing to him her scheme for Mayon's future, 
 and trusting to his kindness and affection to allow tlieir 
 child to decide for herself, and she felt sure slie would decide 
 v.'isely. But she knew his unwavering faith, that in i\Ior- 
 monism only lay the salvation of himself and family, and 
 she feared that duty — a terrible word to her — would lead 
 him, against the dictations of his own heart, to use inilu- 
 12 
 
178 KLDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 enccs or commands which could not be resisted. She dared 
 not confide in him for fear of his terrible religion — a religion 
 which could force a fair young girl into a wretched bond- 
 age, and destroy or outrage every womanly instinct of her 
 soul. 
 
 Mrs. Northfield could not run that risk. Better, a thou- 
 sand times better, wrong her husband, than wrong her 
 daughter to the extent of blighting her whole life ! Better 
 bring down his anger and indignation, and even the malig- 
 nity of the Church, upon her own head, than allow Mor- 
 monism to bring upon May on what it had brought upon 
 her mother. So the mother carried the burden of her secret 
 year after year. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 179 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 "I^TANY hnnclrcd miles from the scenes portrayed by tho 
 -Lt.1. preceding pages, in a liouse furnished with every 
 luxury and comfort its inmates desired, sat an elderly lady 
 reading stories to two little children, sitting at her feet, and 
 eagerly listening to the words as the}^ fell from her lips. At 
 one side of the room, near a window, a girl, who had out- 
 grown such childish stories, sat poring over a hook of her 
 own, all oblivious of everything else. The lady had a calm, 
 sweet expression, and her eyes had not lost their youthful 
 brilliancy, though her hair was silvery gray. The little girl 
 at the window suddenly tossed her sunny curls from her 
 face, threw down her book, and her blue eyes sparkled, as 
 she exclaimed : 
 
 " There come mamma and Harry ! I'll meet them first, 
 Dot and Daisy." 
 
 The stories were miheeded now% and the two little ones 
 scampered away down to the gate, with their sister Lillian, 
 who good-naturedly fell behind and allowed them to win 
 the race. 
 
 The mother was the perfect picture of health, beauty, and 
 joy, as she received the hearty welcome of her little ones. 
 Harr}', who had previously trudged along demurely by her 
 side, caught the infection of the race, and instituted another, 
 for his own l)ene(it, calling on his mother to catch them. 
 One and all they merrily brought up at the door, wliere the 
 elderly lady stood watching them, with a smile of satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
ISO ELDEn NOr.TIIFIELD's JIOME ; OH, 
 
 " Vv'en, aunt Vrd]?, have these babies been good ? " asked 
 the young n'.olhcr as she caugh.t u;) the liltle twins, who 
 went by the names of Dot and Daisy, and hugged them to 
 her heart. 
 
 " Very good, IZlsie. And now what letters have you?" 
 
 '• I have searccly lool:ed at them, but I will now. 0, aunt 
 AYells ! Here is— I do believe this is Marion's handwriting. 
 At hist she has written again. My sister is alive after all! 
 I thank God ! " 
 
 Marion had not written to her sister for years. Since the 
 receipt of Elsie's letter, which had so wrung her lieart, 
 coming just when her happiness had received its first crush- 
 ing blow, she had wished to keep her in ignorance of her 
 misery and humiliation. Ghc had nothing but sorrow to 
 write, and she could not bear to write it. Thoughts of her 
 cistcr and longing to hear from her had, however, after a 
 lime, almost persuaded her to write, but the dreaded ordeal 
 was put ofT from time to time or forgotten in her family 
 troubles and cares. Go the years had passed, and Elsie 
 feared Marion was dead. She did not cease to write to 
 Marion for a time, but receiving no answer, at last gave up 
 in despair of ever hearing from her again. Elsie, or Mrs. 
 Bernard, whom she had now become, hurriedly opened tho 
 letter and read aloud : 
 
 '• 11\- Ov;:: Dzxr. Sisrzr. : — Can you forgive the long silence 
 that I have liept these years towards you ? Your letter con- 
 gratulating me upon my husband's faithfulness, and tho 
 neecL'Ssness of your fears for me, came when I was plunged 
 in the deepest of darlmcss by what you tlien — and I always 
 — DU')po3ed impossible, and I have since had not much but 
 corrov/ to wri'.c of and could not bear that you and aunt 
 V/ells L--:o"ld hnov/ of my trouble and humiliation. And 
 novr that I have taken up this task, dear sister, do not, I 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 181 
 
 bepf, blame nic too nnich for the selfishness that kept me 
 silent v.'hen it only pained me to speak and prompts me 
 now to write to you when I want your help. I must tell 
 you all that has passed in my life since I last wrote you." 
 
 Then followed a narrative of the events already known to 
 the reader, written in a way to shield her husband from 
 l)lame as much as possible. Toward the close was the fol- 
 lowing appeal to her sister: 
 
 " Elsie, judge by the maternal love that doubtless exists in 
 your own heart by tins time what I must feel at the thought 
 of my Ma3'on growing up amid such surroundings, and with 
 a prospect of such a life before her as mine has been. I 
 know your deep love for me has not died, dear sister, and 
 will it prompt you to help me save my little girl from such 
 sorrow as I have known ? I have reared her so far with the 
 prospect continually before me of parting with her when she 
 is grown to womanhood, with the determination, cost what 
 it may, of sending her forth into the Gentile world at last. 
 You are the only one to whom I have confided my plan. I 
 would not dare let any person here know of my determination. 
 Mayon herself does not dream that my assiduity in teach- 
 ing and training her is due partly to my wish to pr.'pare her 
 fur a new and untried life. She is the pride of my life, the 
 joy of my heart, and my home will he desolate when she 
 leaves it; nevertheless I shall be glad. You have repeatedly 
 written deploring our separation, Elsie, and wishing I might 
 come back to you and aunt Wells. Although I cannot 
 come, may I send my child to you ? She will need a shelter, 
 a friend and i)rotector. ^Vill you receive and love her as I 
 know you would me? Inasmuch as you do this kindness 
 unto her you do it unto me. I think she need not be de- 
 pendent on you long for support, for I am trying to rear her 
 with strength of body and njind to make her own way in 
 the world as you and I did. Her father has means to de- 
 
1C2 ELDER NOHTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 frr.y nil licr expense?, but I am not sure that I can appro- 
 l^riatc one dollar to support lier in the Gentile world, 
 although he ^vould deny lier nothing for her lia]'>piness did 
 it not conflict with his ideas of duty. I tremble when I 
 tlnnk of the storm that I sliall raise in his bosom by this 
 long premeditated act of treason to him. I grieve that I 
 must do him this wrong, but there is no help for it. A 
 worse result might come from an abandonment of my pur- 
 pose than all my husband's anger or grief. And he has his 
 heart's desire in our son's belief in the religion, for I grieve 
 to say Forest is growing up an earnest Mormon. Now, I 
 trust to your love, kindness, and generosit}", not to deny me. 
 I know you will open j^our heart and home to my child. I 
 do not know your husband's circumstances, but suppose 
 them to be such that he will not feel the burden, and I trust 
 the love he may have for little ones of his own may prompt 
 his heart towards kindness and pity for mine. I remember 
 dear aunt Wells with affection, and suppose she is with 3'ou 
 now. Ask her if she will in the future bestow the love and 
 care upon my child that she offered me. Tell her I have 
 life-long regrets that I did not heed her warning, and at 
 least make an effort to save myself from the fate she too 
 truly predicted would be mine. And now, dear sister, do 
 not pity me or blame my husband too much, for with the 
 exception of a few months he has been as true and affec- 
 tionate towards me through all my trouble as he was when 
 you knew him in my bridal days. It is not he that has 
 caused so much wretchedness to enter into my life, but the 
 doctrines of INIormonism through his belief in it. He is a 
 victim and a slave to false teaching and fanaticism, and I 
 have faith that the time will come when he will throw off 
 his shackles and stand forth free from the delusions that in- 
 fluence him now. Then he will forgive his wife's deceit in 
 this matter, and we will live in the Gentile world again. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 183 
 
 Dear Elsie, I believe I shall again be with you before I die. 
 Now, may I look forward with a definite hope of a home for 
 Mayon with you when the few remaining years that I may 
 still keep her are passed ? May I have the consolation of 
 knowing that when she leaves me she will go to one who 
 will be like a mother to her ? If you say ' yes,' as I feel sure 
 you will, the thought of our coming separation will lose half 
 its bitterness." 
 
 There was not much more in the letter, and as Mrs. Ber- 
 nard folded it she exclaimed : 
 
 " Poor, dear Marion ! 0, that she might come too ! How 
 gladly will we receive her child. Do you not say so, aunt 
 Wells?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, with all my heart, but you have Walter 
 to consult." 
 
 '•I know well what he will say, aunt. He will say — " 
 
 A voice behind her interrupted her and finished the sen- 
 tence. 
 
 " Extend to the child the warmest welcome, and give her 
 the happiest life that human efforts can secure her." 
 
 " My noble Walter ! I knew you would say that. But 
 where have you been to hear it all? " 
 
 " Just behind my wife's chair. As you did not observe 
 my entrance, I raised my finger as a warning to aunt and 
 the children to be quiet, and thus I have heard the whole of 
 your poor sister's story. How a man, made in the image of 
 God, and endowed with the natural gifts and graces that 
 man evidently possesses, can become such a slave to super- 
 stition, stoop to such wickedness in the name of religion, is 
 beyond my comprehension." 
 
 " We will write directly to Marion," said aunt Wells, "and 
 I will ask the privilege of adopting Mayon as my special 
 charge and giving her every advantage in the way of educa- 
 tion that she may need.*' 
 
184 ELDER KOnXIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 " Would you rob us entirely of the pleasure of providing 
 for her?" asked AValtcr Bernard. 
 
 "You have four little ones of your own, and I should 
 esteem it »a privilege to give to this little Marion what I ex- 
 pected to give her mother." 
 
 " Be it so, then, aunt," said her nephew, and a message, 
 long and loving, was despatched to a waiting one in Utah, 
 which filled her heart with thanksgivings. 
 
 As Mayon grew older she did not need to be told of tho 
 saddening effects of polygamy on the Utah wives. She real- 
 ized what was the cause of her mother's i)ast insanity and 
 depressed spirits, and had heard from her lips the story of 
 Nell's mother without, however, being told of the indiffer- 
 ence and neglect that her father exercised towards her own 
 mother. She could not tell her daughter this part of her 
 sad experience for fear she would turn against her father, 
 for whom her affection w^as never very strong. As IMayoii 
 realized the difference between Mormonism and Gentileism 
 she became more and more dissatisfied and regretful that 
 her life was cast in with that people. She knew occasion- 
 ally of some Mormon apostatizing, and never without a wish 
 that it miglit have been her father. Every item of informa- 
 tion with regard to Gentile life she eagerly devoured, and 
 lier mind was constantly exercised with a desire to live in 
 the Gentile world. This was as her mother wished. But 
 the thought had not entered the girl's mind that she mi^ht 
 go out into the world, imless a change came over her father, 
 and thus change their prospects as a family. For this 
 change Mayon hoped. Too much of a child she yet was to 
 look forward with apprehensions to her own malr'monial 
 prospects, and if she thought of them at all, it was witli a 
 purpose never to marry, but always to remain with her 
 mother. But as she observed and realized more of what was 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 185 
 
 passing around Iicr she bccnmc more thou^^litful on the sub- 
 ject. A conversation Avith her brother and sister tended to 
 awaken her fears somewhat for her own future. She and 
 Nell were sitting alone one day, busily sewing, when Forest 
 entered. lie had now become almost a man, a very attrac- 
 tive young person, and a great assistant — thanks to his 
 mother's instructions in mathematics— to his father in busi- 
 ness. 
 
 " Well, girls," said he, "have you heard the latest news?" 
 
 *' What news, Forest? " the girls asked in a breath. 
 
 "Alice Clark is to be married to-morrow to John Andross." 
 
 " Not Sarah Andross' father ! " exclaimed Nell. 
 
 " The same," said Forest. 
 
 "Forest, you do not mean it! Alice Clark is not old 
 enough. She is scarcely two years older than vre are," said 
 May on. 
 
 "'Can't help it. It's a fact."' 
 
 " It is a shame for that young girl to marry a man old 
 enough to be her father. Indeed his daughter Sarah is 
 older than Alice. Alice to become a fourth wife ! I know 
 it was not her wish. Did the elders counsel her till they 
 made her consent, or did her father bring it about? " 
 
 "A little of both, I guess." 
 
 " I know it could not be Alice's wish, and I believe she 
 had no more thought of marrying so young than Nell and I 
 have." 
 
 "Well, they said she cried and made some fuss, but, like 
 a good girl, concluded to be obedient." 
 
 " Poor Alice ! " siiid Mayon. 
 
 "Poor Alice, indeed, jNIayon ! " said Nell. "I don't see 
 why you should make such a fuss over the affair. You 
 know that she will not be nearly as poor when she is John 
 Andross' wife as she is now. Her fjither is very poor, and 
 can hardly support his family, and Mr. Andross has plenty 
 
186 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 of money; aiid as his other wives arc all quite oldish, Alice 
 will get ever3'thing she wants. I have no doubt he will 
 make a great pet of her." 
 
 " Well said, sister Nell," said Forest. " Besides, are you 
 not aware that it will be much more to her advancement 
 and honor in the Celestial kingdom to have married an 
 elderly man than a young man ? ' Better trust to an old 
 man's head than a young man's heart,' they say." 
 
 " Better trust neither, if that head or heart belong to a 
 Mormon," said Mayon, spiritedly. " Nell says Alice will 
 be her husband's pet. So she may till he wishes for 
 another pet, then he will break her heart if she loves 
 him, as even our father has almost broken mamma's 
 heart." 
 
 " Your mother has nothing to complain of," said Nell, who 
 felt this thrust on her mother's account, whose story she had 
 heard from her own relatives in childhood. " She selfishly 
 kept our father almost entirely to herself. If I do not 
 speak of my poor mamma, you certainly need not speak 
 of yours." 
 
 " Come, come, children," said their brother with a fatherly 
 air, "don't quarrel. Why can't you live in peace? I'll 
 wager my new hat, Nell, that Mayon will put her trust both 
 in the head and heart of some good Mormon before she is 
 three years older." 
 
 " Never! " exclaimed Mayon, with flashing eyes. 
 
 "Calm yourself, my little volcano," said Forest; "you 
 certainly would frighten any lover away with such a temper 
 as that." 
 
 " I tell you, I never wull be a Mormon's wife. I never 
 shall marry. I think all the women here are miserable, and 
 unless papa apostatizes, and we go into the Gentile world, I 
 shall never marry." 
 
 " Girls and women here do not have the privilege of doing 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 187 
 
 as the}^ please in everything, whatever they may do in the 
 Gentile world you are so fond of. Mayon, mamma is spoil- 
 ing: you for Mormon life, and you are a disgrace to your 
 religion." 
 
 " It is not my religion. I do not believe in Mormonism. 
 I hate it and all its doctrines. God never blesses such a fLiith 
 as this." 
 
 " But, according to the Bible, he did bless it in the persons 
 of Abraham, Jacob, etc. Mayon, look about you and see 
 how many girls have arrived at the age of twenty without 
 marrying." 
 
 Mayon could scarcely think of one, and was silent. 
 
 " If you are so blind as not to see that all girls marry here, 
 and that counsel and commands of elders and parents are to 
 be obeyed, others are not so blind." 
 
 ^' Do you mean to intimate that I shall be forced into 
 marriage, either by the elders or by my own father? " 
 
 " I mean to say that I believe he will think it his duty to 
 do what will be for your highest good. And though he, of 
 course, would never exactly compel you to marry, yet he 
 will expect to be obeyed in tlie matter. But, Mayon, do not 
 take it to heart so. You are too young now to think much 
 about such things, and I did wrong to trouble you with the 
 doctrines. I forgot that it was a forbidden subject between 
 us. I do Avish, though, that you and mother could agree 
 with the rest of us on these points. *A house divided against 
 itself cannot stand,' you know, the proverb says. Now let 
 us sign a treaty of peace, and all go out for a walk." 
 
 " No, Forest," said Mayon, sadly. " You and Nell may go, 
 but I want to talk with mamma." 
 
 "Then, good-by, little girl. Never mind what I have 
 said." 
 
 But Mayon was excited now, and no effort of her brother 
 could calm her. She sought her mother and said : 
 
1S3 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 " Mamma, docs any vv-oman escape living in polygam}-? 
 Must every girl licrc marry sooner or later?'' 
 
 ''Almost every one docs marry, my child." 
 
 "Then, must my fate be like yours, and must J live to bo 
 jis wretched as most of the women here appear to be? Is 
 there no way of escape for me ? " 
 
 "Yes, my child, there is a way for you to escape tlie or- 
 dinary Mormon woman's lot. But what has set you to 
 thinking of this?" 
 
 " Forest has been talking to me. He said he forgot it was 
 a forbidden subject between us. I never thought much about 
 my own future till now; and now he has told me of Alice 
 Clark being about to marry an elderly man with three wives, 
 against her own will, and I feel frightened. A\'ill father al- 
 w^ays believe as he does now, I wonder, and remain here? 
 I would rather die than become the wife of a Mormon." 
 
 " You never shall be the wife of a Mormon, my dear. Do 
 not fear." 
 
 " Can you prevent it, mamma, if the authorities should 
 counsel me, as they did poor Alice, and if my father should 
 consider it his duty to command me to marry? Can you 
 save me?" 
 
 " Yes, my child ; all your life I have looked forward to 
 just such a time to come as you speak of, and I have pro- 
 vided you a way of escape." 
 
 "Tell me what you mean." 
 
 " Mayon, my child, you say you had rather die than marry 
 a Mormon. It will not cost you your life to save yourself, 
 but it will cost you your separation from a mother who 
 almost idolizes you. The only one way for me to save you 
 from a life like mine is to send you away from here. Your 
 aunt Elsie will receive you, and our aunt Wells has asked 
 the privilege of giving you an education." 
 
 *' What, mother ! " exclaimed Mayon in an a^ony of cs- 
 
CACniFICED ON THE J.IORMOx^ ALTAI!. 18D 
 
 citcmcr.t. "Do you mean to send ine awny from you? 
 Must I leave my darling niothcr? Is that the only -way to 
 save me IVom polygamy?" 
 
 " Yes, my poor ehild. It has saddened my life for years 
 to kno',v that in the future was in store for me and for you 
 til is separation. But I determined it from the very hegin- 
 uing of your life, and I thank God that a way has been 
 opened to help me in the fulhlling of my plan." 
 
 " Mother, I cannot leave you 1 Come with me ! mother, 
 come with me! " 
 
 ''And leave your father, Mayon ? He never has intcn- 
 tion;dlv wronged me in any manner. He has never brought 
 trou'ole uj^on me except as it came in consequence of tho 
 ]>cr:brmancc of what he believed his duty. It is not your 
 fitlicr wlio is to blame for all my miser}^ but the faith that 
 he believes in. Do not cherish one hard thouglit towards 
 him, Mayon, for his belief has saddened his life also, though 
 he still clings to it. Could I desert him now? No, M-uyon, 
 it is wri-nging him enough to send his daughter secretly 
 away, as I shall have to do some day. I could not rob him 
 of both wife and child." 
 
 " AViirhe need you more than I shall? He will still have 
 Edith. Perhaps they would love each other if you left 
 them." 
 
 Mayon's words unconsciously brought a pang of jealousy 
 to ]Marion's heart — the first she had ever felt for Edith — and 
 they had an effect contrary to Mayon's design. 
 
 "No, Mayon, tb.ere can never be any love between them. 
 Edith was as much opposed to marriage as my Mayon is ; 
 but she was forced to marry some one, so she accented your 
 f^ither." 
 
 "Poor Edith! I shall love her more than ever, now I 
 know that," said Mayon. "But, motlier, let me tell my 
 father all about my feelings, and plead with him to leave tho 
 
190 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 Mormons for our sakes, and he can still be a Mormon, al- 
 though in the Gentile world. Then we shall not have to bo 
 separated." 
 
 " You must never mention it to him, m}^ child. Believe 
 that I know best. No human being this side your aunt 
 Elsie's, except you, knows what I have in my mind, and no 
 one must know, or you cannot escape. Those who aposta- 
 tize and flee from here are if possible overtaken and brought 
 back, and there have been times when to be openly an 
 apostate was to peril one's life. I do not fear danger for 
 you if our plan is not suspected, for I hope the railway will 
 be conipleted long before the time of your journey." 
 
 "Mother, this is dreadful! I would almost rather stay 
 with you, and risk the consequences. Do you believe my 
 father would wish me to marr}^ against my will?" 
 
 "I cannot tell, Mayon. I never believed he would ever 
 take another wife, but he has taken two. There is no sacri- 
 fice he would not make for his religion, so I do not feel safe 
 from anything while he believes in Mormonism." 
 
 " But, mother, if I leave you, you may come to me some 
 time." 
 
 "Yes, I hope to, my child. I hope that some time your 
 father may be undeceived, and we may again be united in 
 the Gentile world." 
 
 " 0, mother, mother, I cannot leave you ! " 
 
 And Mayon, with her head in her mother's lap, as in her 
 more childish days, gave herself up to the most passionate 
 of sobbing and weeping. 
 
 ]Marion, after a time, though her own heart ached with 
 sorrow and pity for her child, succeeded in calming her, and 
 then she talked to her long and confidentially of their rela- 
 tion to Elsie and her family. She told her much of Edith's 
 sad stor}^ beginning with Edith's mother. 
 
 What Mayon had learned that day changed her. She be- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 191 
 
 came more thoughtful, and seemed older by a j^ear, and the 
 prospect of a coming separation bound her more closely to 
 lier mother, and the latter -was pained to notice that not- 
 withstanding her efforts to lessen in no degree Mayon's re- 
 gard for her father, yet she seemed to shrink from him and 
 avoid his society. 
 
 This did not altogether escape the father's observation, 
 though he was far from suspecting the cause. But Nell 
 made up in her attentions what was lacking in Mayon, and 
 she installed herself the favorite with him, as she had been 
 in her infancy. 
 
 Two years passed without any great change in the house- 
 hold. The mother had gained a look of more sadness, which, 
 however, was relieved at times by an expression of happy 
 content, when her face had a far-away look, that Mayon 
 could readily interpret. She knew her mother was seeing 
 in anticipation her child safe and happy with the friends of 
 her own youth, and was herself happy in the thought. 
 
 Edith had not ceased to appear in the light of a minister- 
 ing angel to the different members of the family, and Mayon 
 l^articularly was drawn towards her more strongly than ever, 
 through her sympathy. She was still as a dear sister to 
 Marion, and the latter was surprised at times as she realized 
 that she was living in love and peace with another wife — 
 something she had thought utterly impossible. But she also 
 realized that this harmonious state of things was entirely 
 due to the peculiar attitude Edith held towards herself and 
 husband. She blessed Edith, and felt that there could be 
 no nobler conduct than hers ; at the same time she pitied 
 her for the blight that had fallen on her so young, and 
 robbed her of all life's natural joys. She endeavored in 
 every possible way to make up for this loss, and repay her 
 for the months of weary watching and care which she had 
 received from her. 
 
102 ELDEr. xonTiiriELD's noME; c:?, 
 
 So Eaith t^t.s not without many sources of comfort, !\Ia- 
 yon's society proving: not the least, as slie was gradually bc- 
 cominc; more womanly and companionable. Nell bad not 
 outgrown her childish shortcomings, but had become more 
 expert in hiding them, till her father had come to believe 
 that she was as sweet in disposition as Mayon, and certainly 
 more winning. Mayon was never winning to him, and it 
 was not lis fault that he did not love her as much as he did 
 Nell, for slie avoided him almost as entirely as Edith did. 
 But when his whole family was assembled and visitors were 
 present, he could look with pride upon Mayon, as he could 
 not upon Xell, fo: it was Miyon who entertained them with 
 music, and ]\Iayon who could converse most intelligently, if 
 occasion required. Elder Northfield wished Nell might add 
 to her winsotneness the culture and intelligence Mayon pos- 
 sessed, and that Mayon would give him the love and coiifi- 
 dence his other daughter bestowed upon him. 
 
 Forest had inherited his father's e\:)quence in public 
 speaking, and was about to be ordained an elder, and sent 
 to the small villages and towns in the Territory as local mis- 
 sionary. 
 
 Elder Northfield was still prospering in business, and ap- 
 parently his family was a hap})y one. Forest and Nell, how- 
 ever, were the only really happy ones. Polygamy had clouded 
 the happiness of the others, even the husband and father, 
 for when his dear ones had suffered he had suffered too. 
 But his conscience was clear, and he had much pride in his 
 children, especially in his son. 
 
 From time to time emigrant parlies from all parts of the 
 Union and from across the ocean arrived in the city. Among 
 them there were many young girls who had left father and 
 mother, brother aiul sister, for their religion's s dee — wives 
 and mothers who forsook even their husbands and little ones 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 193 
 
 to gather to Zion. There were men who counted their reli- 
 gion more dear than wives and children and left them all 
 beliind. There were parts of families and whole families, 
 from the gray-headed man to the child too young to lisp its 
 mother's name. For this was a religion that bade men sever 
 the strongest ties of nature and outrage the purest of domestic 
 affections. 
 
 Strenuous efforts had of late been made to gather in con- 
 verts from all parts of the world, and especially from the 
 United States. Elders and missionaries had been sent out 
 in all directions. The most winning, attractive and persua- 
 sive men were selected for these missions ; also those most 
 talented and intelligent. They were now reaping the fruit 
 of their labors. Although but few were the converts each 
 elder secured, yet their aggregate was a most goodly number. 
 Enlightened New England furnished a small band, for talent, 
 perseverance and persuasiveness will win their way any- 
 where, even though they can work only on the credulity, ex- 
 citability and emotional sensibilities of their victims. 
 
 Among the band of New England emigrants which ar- 
 rived in Salt Lake City about this time was a young girl 
 named Flora Winchester. It came about that in the pro- 
 viding of temporary homes for the newly-arrived converts 
 Elder Northfield agreed to receive one into his family, and 
 accordingly this one was sent to him. His family were, of 
 course, prepared to receive an emigrant into their home, but 
 they w^ere not prepared for the sweetness and intelligence 
 that came to them in the person of Flora. She was an at- 
 tractive, educated girl, but she had an air of sadness and 
 homesickness, although firm in her faith in the new religion. 
 She was so quiet, so sober and undemonstrative, that Nell 
 voted her a bore, and made little attempt to make a com- 
 panion of her, but Mayon took her to her own heart and 
 the two girls became firm friends. Mayon pitied her for her 
 13 
 
194 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME; OR, 
 
 apparent loneliness, and was interested in her because she 
 came as a representative of that -world which she was some 
 time to enter. She kept Flora talking by the hour of the 
 Gentile people and their institutions, and felt that she had 
 thus gleaned much worldly wisdom. But of Flora's personal 
 friends and circumstances she was very reticent. Mayon 
 often wondered why she would not speak of her home, her 
 family and friends, but she would not ask about them, for 
 Flora evidently did not wish to speak of them. 
 
 Mayon was not the only friend Flora made among the 
 young people of the house. Forest began to pay her many 
 little kind attentions in the hope of cheering and lifting the 
 veil of sadness that seemed to hang over her. She received 
 any kindnesses from them in a pretty, grateful way, that won 
 their hearts, but she nevertheless seemed very unhapp}^ 
 Mayon and her mother had many a confidential talk con- 
 cerning the new-comer, and they were sad to think that such 
 a promising young girl should be deluded into believing in 
 such a religion, and that she had been influenced in all 
 probability to leave home and friends for her faith. They 
 longed to try to undeceive her and persuade her to return to 
 her friends. But they dared not say much to her against 
 the religion for fear of the elders, who kept a strict watch 
 over their emigrant converts till they were firmly established 
 in Zion. One day, as Flora returned from a ride with Forest, 
 who had taken her to see the country, she rushed into 
 Mayon's room, which she shared with her, and without re- 
 moving her wrappings flung herself into a chair and burst 
 into tears. They were the first Mayon had seen her shed, 
 and now very much touched, she placed her arm lovingly 
 about Flora and said : 
 
 " Dear Flora, what is your trouble ? Why are you so sad? 
 Do not tell me unless you wish, but I would so like to com- 
 fort you if I might." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 105 
 
 *'I want to see my mother. I w^.nt mv fnthor to look 
 landly on me once more. 1 do miss Jessie and the boys so 
 much. I am homesick here, Mayon, in spite of all your 
 kindness, and now what your brother has said to me makes 
 me feel that I have no right to stay here longer." 
 
 "What has he said, Flora?" 
 
 " He says — he says — he asked me to marry him. I did 
 not think of such a thing, and do not love him, though he 
 has been ver}^ kind to me, and you all have, and I feel very 
 grateful for it all ; but I could not give him the answer he 
 wished. How could I marry a man I do not love ? " 
 
 Poor girl ! She had j'et to learn that Mormon wom.en 
 were expected to do what she felt she could not. 
 
 " No, Flora, you could not, of course, and I am sorry 
 Forest asked you. I should grieve to zee you become my 
 brother's wife." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because he is a Mormon, and you know mother and T, 
 though Mormons by name, do not believe in the religion ; 
 and. Flora, I wish for your sake you never had, but had re- 
 mained with your father and mother. You cannot tell how 
 I regret that I was not born in the Gentile vv'orld — ho7/ I 
 long to go there away from this false religion and these de- 
 luded and deluding people." 
 
 " Forest has told me that 5'ou and your mother are not i:i 
 the faith, and that it is a great trial to his father and to 
 him." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose it is. Mother was once a firm believer in 
 Mormonism as you are, but when she learned that polygamy 
 was one of the doctrines it destroyed her faith in the whole, 
 and poor mother has had enough sad experience to destroy 
 her faith. 0, Flora, how could you have been persuaded to 
 leave your home and join this Church ? " 
 
 " I will tell you all about it, Mayon. I have not felt like 
 
196 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 speaking of my family before, and I presume you have won- 
 dered at it; but now I will tell you how it all came about, 
 as near as I can, though I hardly know myself. Elder 
 Korthwmd Elder Burnside came to our village and ap- 
 pointed a meeting. No one knew they were Mormons, and 
 a good many people gathered to hear them preach, among 
 them my brother Carlos and myself. They w-ere very elo- 
 quent and adhered at first to doctrines not particularly 
 strange or ne-w, and they had held several meetings before the 
 people discovered that they were Mormons. When they did 
 make the discovery, however, almost all left the meetings ; 
 but I had become very much interested, and felt that I had 
 perhaps, like others, been prejudiced against the Mormons, 
 and I resolved to continue to attend and learn for myself 
 whether their doctrine was from God or not. My brother 
 would not take me after that, and I was forced to go alone, 
 which I did, till my father forbid my attending the meet- 
 ings again. I disobeyed him once or twice, however, and 
 then it seems that the youngest elder — Elder Burnside — 
 learned that I had been forbidden to attend the meetings, 
 and he called upon me in my father's absence. He asked 
 me to meet him at his boarding-place and he would explain 
 to me all I wished to know. I met him several times, and 
 at last became a believer in the faith." 
 
 " Flora, how could you believe in polygamy ? " 
 " I did not fully, but he assured me that it would all ap- 
 pear right to me if I held on to my faith. I felt that at last 
 I had been given a clean heart, and entered God's Church. 
 I felt quite happy. Then both elders urged me to leave my 
 home and emigrate w4th a party they were forming to Zion. 
 I could not make up my mind to that for a great while, for 
 I dearl}' loved my friends ; but when I realized that ' Whoso 
 loveth father or mother, brother or sister, more than Me, is 
 not worthy of Me,' I decided to give up everything for my 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 197 
 
 religion, find I informed Elder Bnrnside that I would be 
 ready to start with the company. My family did not know 
 what had been going on, I had been so secret about it, and 
 it came like a thunderbolt on them when I told them that I 
 was going to leave them in a few days. My mother wept 
 and plead with me ; my brothers and sister said I should not 
 leave them, and my father kindly tried to reason and per- 
 suade me, till he found how useless it was, for I had made 
 up my mind to brave all this storm, which I knesv would 
 come. At last my father gave way to anger, and he told me 
 if I left his house as a Mormon convert I should never enter 
 it again. He said he would never own for a daughter one 
 who could so demean herself as to become a Mormon. This 
 angered me, and notwithstanding my mother's entreaties, I 
 immediately took with me a few articles of clothing and 
 went to the house of another convert and there remained till 
 we left for Utah, which was in two or three days. The next 
 day my mother came to see me, and I never shall forget our 
 agony as we bid each other farewell. She tried with all her 
 might to persuade me to remain, but I would not. She then 
 said : ' Remember, Flora, that notwithstanding your father's 
 anger, your mother will always love you, and if you ever 
 wish to come back, as I fear 3'ou will, mother's heart and 
 home will always be open to you.' She had come against 
 the commands of my father, who had forbidden any member 
 of his family coming to me, so I did not see my brothers 
 and sister again. I felt that I had given up all for the Lord, 
 and expected to be very happy, but somehow I am not. I 
 long for my home and friends, and sometimes wonder if I 
 have not been foolishly deceived, and if you and your 
 mother are not right.'', 
 
 " Flora, believe that we are right, and go back to your 
 mother. She will be made so happy, and your fatlier will 
 forgive you and take you back when he sees how penitent 
 you are." 
 
198 rLDER nortiifield's home ; or, 
 
 "Icanr.ot do that. ]\Iavon, you do not know tlic scorn 
 and derision that would be heaped upon me were I to re- 
 turn. And my pride will not let me go back and ])lead 
 with my father after he has said I never should enter his 
 liouse ap^ain. If he kept his word, what would become of 
 me? Mother and Jessie and the boys I know would wel- 
 come me back, but even with them I could hardly hold up 
 my head, and much less could I acknowledi^e to my father 
 my error, or bear the scorn of my former friends. It was 
 considered by them all a great disgrace to l)ecome a Mor- 
 mon. Asa penitent Mormon among them I never could 
 live. No, Mayon, I cannot go back now." 
 
 Then Mayon determined, even at the risk of increasing 
 Flora's trouble, to inform her of the sadness of woman's lot 
 there, and to impress U[)on her mind a horror of polygamy, 
 hoj>ing that her fear might actuate her to return to tliC Gen- 
 tile world. She longed to tell her of her intentions vvith re- 
 gard to her own future and i)ersuade Flora to go with h.er to 
 iSew England, but this she dared not do as long as Flora 
 was in any sense a Mormon. Flora listened with a failing 
 lieart to Mayon's description of the lives of th.e women of 
 Utah, but she was not i)ersuaded to abandon her purpose of 
 remaining, now tliat s])e had entered the Church and arrived 
 in the city. She said it was of no use ; she could not go 
 back now ; it was impossible, and she must make the best 
 of it. Mayon was very sad as she confided to her mother 
 her attempt to right the wrong done to Flora and its utter 
 failure. Flora became more gloon^y than before, and Forest 
 avoided her, not from any ill feeling, but his heart was sore 
 with disappointment, and her society now was only painful 
 to him. 
 
 But Flora's face at length I'rightci^.ed in a manner unsus- 
 pected by her friends. Elder Burnside, who did not arrive 
 with the company, but remained by the way to preach, had 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 199 
 
 now returned to the city, and he called upon Flora. As 
 ]Ma3'on and her mother saw the girl's face liglit np, and a 
 flush of joy come to her cheek on greeting the elder, they 
 read the secret of her conversation and attributed her un- 
 willingness to leave Mormonism partly to her unwillingness 
 to leave its young champion. Mrs. Northfield knew too 
 well the influence of the Mormon elder over the one upon 
 whom he bestows his love, and she felt that Flora's case was 
 hopeless. Elder Burnside's visits were often repeated, and 
 the whole family were now sensible that a change had come 
 over her. She was no longer the quiet, sad girl they had 
 known, but was cheerful and even gay at times. Elder 
 Northfield was, however, the only one in the house who re- 
 joiced at this change, knowing, as they did, its cause. 
 Marion, Edith, and May on felt that it was but a sealing of 
 her doom as a INIormon woman, and Forest could only look 
 upon Elder Burnside as a rival in his efforts to win Flora 
 for his wife. It galled him to see that this man's affection 
 made her happy, while his advances had only seemed to in- 
 crease her sadness. Nell became more sociably inclined now 
 towards Flora, but the latter would only confide in Mayon, 
 whom she loved devotedly, although she would not be in- 
 fluenced by her in the matter of the greatest importance. 
 
 " Mayon," she said one day, " I told you my story, but I 
 did not tell you quite the whole. I could not then. But 
 now all is decided, I will tell you. I am going to marry 
 Elder Burnside." 
 
 " 0, Flora ! I have known it ever since he came, but I 
 wisli, so strongly, that it was not so. I fear you will 
 in time be miserable. Are you not afraid to trust your 
 happiness in the hands of a man who believes in polyg- 
 amy?" 
 
 " No, for I think he will do nothing that is not right, and 
 I shall try and trust God for the rest. I cannot, how- 
 
200 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME) OR, 
 
 ever, think much about the future, I am so happy in the 
 present." 
 
 Not many days passed before Flora became the wife of 
 Elder Burnside — a beautiful, blushing, happy bride. But, 
 ah! how changed she was ere many years rolled by ! 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OINCE the completion of the railway, Edith, all unknown 
 ^ to any one, had harbored thoughts of leaving the Mor- 
 mon world and attempting to seek a support for herself 
 among the Gentiles. She felt now as some other women felt 
 —that escape was not so utterly impossible for them as it 
 had been hitherto. 
 
 At last she resolved to speak to Marion about the matter, 
 knowing she would not betray her. Marion was very much 
 surprised, but she felt that the hand of Providence was 
 guiding all things for the best. She then told her of her de- 
 termination with regard to Mayon— of the home that was 
 ready and waiting for her child, and doubtless welcome to 
 her also, as it would have been to her mother. She had cor- 
 responded regularly, though not frequently, with Elsie, and 
 the kind offer of aunt Wells was open for her acceptance at 
 any time. 
 
 " Now, Edith," said she, '' though I shall sadly miss you, 
 and shall feel doubly bereft if deprived of you and Mayon 
 at once, yet if you might go with Mayon as her protector 
 on her long journey— if you might find for yourself the 
 happiness you deserve in the Gentile world— I shall be 
 content." 
 
 " I will gladly go with Mayon, and care for her even as 
 her mother would. I do hope for a less sad life than I have 
 known here, but I never expect to find happiness. My 
 father struck a death-blow to all happiness for me years 
 
202 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; CR, 
 
 Tlicn Marion knew tliat tlic wound in Edith's heart had 
 never healed. No word had been spoken in all these years ; 
 but though Edith could be silent, she could not forget. 
 
 " 0, the cruelty of this so-called religion ! " said ]\[arion, 
 " to blast, if not in one way in another, the happiness of 
 every woman coming under its iniluence. Why does God 
 allow his creatures to work such wrong? Why will not th.e 
 Government, instead of making now and then a weak effort 
 to abolish polygamy, passing laws which they do not take 
 means to enforce — why does it not make a mighty effort 
 to free us — slaves that we are — as it did to free the poor 
 negro slave from his bondage?" 
 
 " I have thought of that and have felt almost like doubt- 
 ing God's mercy in allowing this evil to continue, and when 
 I see sweet young girls like Flora V\'inchester, not growing 
 up in it, but coming into it from enlightened New England, 
 I can but wonder at the pow^r for evil it has in the land. 
 That poor child, now so happy, will know, as all others do 
 in time, the wretchedness of a woman's life here. I some- 
 times pray God to spare her if it be possible." 
 
 " Poor Flora ! It was not love for her religion alone that 
 brought her here. She has too much sense for that, but 
 Elder Burnsidc won her heart, as well as her faith in his 
 teachings. She is blind, and when her eyes are opened it 
 will be too late." 
 
 Now, these women had another interest in common to 
 bind their hearts more closely. They resolved that when 
 the time came that i\Ia3^on must fly for refuge to her aunt's 
 liome Edith should go also. Edith's heart was lifted up 
 with hope at thought of freedom from a polygamic life, and 
 Marion, though realh" regretting the loss of such a friend as 
 Edith, felt that she should again rejoice in being the only 
 wife of her husband. Mayon was glad to know that when 
 she was obliGjed to leave her mother one familiar and dear 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 203 
 
 face might still bo l\y licr side to lighten the grief of the 
 separation. She wns TiOW in stature almost a lA'omnn. A 
 close companionsliip with her mother all her life, nnd a 
 keen realization of the sorrows that surrounded and allected 
 her, had made her very womanly. 
 
 Her face had the rcjiose of maturity, and her manners the 
 grace of womanly dignity. Her mother realized that her 
 efforts to fit her for a change in her life had 2)robably been 
 the means of liastening that change. For a young lady of 
 Mayon's attractions, her age, and her position in life to re- 
 main long in Salt Lake City without suitors she knew was 
 impossible. So she regretted that May on had arrived at the 
 age when she might fear other eyes would covet her treas- 
 ure — other hands seek to pluck the flower she had so ten- 
 derly reared. 
 
 May on seemed fully two years older than Nell, who wna 
 but a ft'W months younger. Nell was slight in form and 
 childish in the extreme, but she did not wish, as Mayon did, 
 to be regarded as a child, but was flattered very much by 
 attentions from older people. 
 
 " Why," exclaimed Mnyon one da}', " was I not made 
 smnll instead of Nell ? She fairly longs to be a grown lady 
 and to be considered one, while I envy her her childisli ap- 
 pearance. She puts on a woman's dress, which gives her the 
 look of an over-dressed doll, and I make myself ridiculous 
 by clinging to a girl's manner of dress, while I am several 
 inches taller than Nell. But, mother, why should we fear 
 so much ? Perhaps no one will ever want me for a wife, and 
 then, mother dear, I can stay with you always." 
 
 As the mother lovingly caressed the glossy hair, and looked 
 into those large eyes full of a beautiful intelligence, noticed the 
 sweet mouth and ros}" cheeks of her daughter, slie felt that her 
 beauty was fatal to such hopes. That alone would ensure 
 her bondage to Mormonism if she was not saved from it. 
 
204 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 But neither the mother nor daughter suspected how soon the 
 former's fears were to be realized. Forest was an agreeable 
 young man, fond of compan}', and some of his young friends 
 visited him at his home frequently, spending the evening 
 with the family in the parlor. Edith always excluded her- 
 self from these family gatherings, unless Elder Northfield was 
 absent, except by special request that she would be present. 
 But no other member was missing, and Mayon and Nell 
 were valuable assistants to Forest in the entertaining of his 
 friends. Nell was attractive for her liveliness, Mayon for 
 her music and intelligence. There was one young man — a 
 recently made partner in their father's business — who came 
 oftenest. He was intelligent, and probably a better man 
 could not be found among the Mormons than he. From 
 spending many evenings there he began to call during the 
 day, when at liberty to do so without neglecting his business, 
 and as Ma^^on and Nell usually entertained him, it became 
 evident that one or both attracted him thither. But the 
 mother breathed more freely when she observed that as 
 Mayon gradually withdrew herself and left Nell to entertain 
 their caller alone he came no less frequently. He asked for 
 Mayon, but was apparently not disappointed in the least at 
 her non-appearance, and his visits, and even walks and 
 drives with Nell, appeared to be very enjoyable to them 
 both. Nell was delighted with her admirer, and her little 
 head and heart were quite full of thoughts of him. With 
 these existing circumstances, what wonder that Mrs. North- 
 held received with consternation the announcement from 
 her husband that Edward Ellis had asked him for the hand 
 of his daughter Mayon in marriage. 
 
 " Our Mayon ! " exclaimed the distressed mother. " Why 
 she is nothing but a child. How can j^ou think of such a 
 thing? " 
 
 " I know she is a child in years, but she is very womanly 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 205 
 
 in her ways, and as this will be a fine settlement for her, and 
 a better man than Ellis cannot be found, I am anxious that 
 she shall accept this offer if she can be persuaded into it." 
 
 " But we supposed Nell was the one he was seeking, if 
 either. Both are too young, however, to think of matri- 
 mony. Why has he spent so much time with Nell if he 
 wished for Mayon ? " 
 
 " He accepted her company because deprived of Mayon's, 
 and he has learned a great deal about Mayon from Nell's 
 prattle. I knew he was not trying to win Nell, but he has 
 had his eye on Mayon for a long time." 
 
 " But Mayon has no idea of anything of the kind, and I 
 think it would only be repugnant to her, and Nell is entirely 
 carried away with him, and not without some reason. I 
 think he has done wrong in allowing her to be deceived so. 
 Why cannot a change be made and Ellis be persuaded in 
 favor of Nell instead of Mayon ? " 
 
 " Because, unfortunately, Nell is not the one he wants. 
 Why could I not have married Elsie instead of Marion? 
 Because I did not love Elsie, and I did love Marion." 
 
 " But, Henry, it is not right to urge the acceptance of this 
 offer upon Mayon if she is opposed to it. If it was for Nell 
 there would be no obstacle, for she is more than half in love 
 with Ellis already." 
 
 " I do not wish to crowd or hurry matters. If Mayon 
 wishes the marriage postponed, I shall not object to a year 
 or two of time for her, but I am determined that she shall 
 not slight this offer, notwithstanding her youth, and I wish 
 the matter to be settled immediately. I have almost given 
 Ellis a promise of Mayon, and he will take it very hard if he 
 is disappointed, so I do not wish him to be refused. I have 
 left her affairs almost entirely to you, Marion, in the past, 
 and have never interfered with your wishes concerning her, 
 but in this matter I feel that I have a father's right and a 
 
206 ELDER NORTIIFIELDS IIOMI!; OR, 
 
 iiitber's duty to perform, and hope tliat you v.'ill use your 
 efforts to secure my wislies. I count on your help if May on 
 proves obstinate, for it is only her own best good that I seek, 
 and althougli she may at first feel opposed, no doubt she 
 ^vill soon listen to reason and offer no serious objection." 
 
 " But INIayon is not so ordinary a person that she may not 
 have plenty of good offers of marriage if she does not accept 
 this." 
 
 " No ; but she cannot have a better one, and 'A bird in the 
 hand is worth two in the bush.' " 
 
 Mrs. Northfield could say no more. Her heart was full. 
 She felt that in this matter as in other matters that affected 
 her vital interests " duty " was to decide against her. " Duty," 
 that stern tyrant of her life, was to wrest from her possession 
 her dearest treasure, or offer it up a sacrifice on the altar of 
 Mormonism. Her husband rose to leave the room, saying: 
 '' Now, ^farion, shall I speak to Mayon about this or will 
 yoa? I hope ere long to see her the wife of Edward Ellis," 
 and turning the speaker beheld Mayon, who had entered the 
 room unnoticed by her father in time to hear his last re- 
 mark. She stood riveted to the spot in terror. Her large 
 eyes dilated till they were immense, and all the roses were 
 gone from her cheek. Her father was frightened at her ap- 
 pearance and hastened towards her, but she avoided liis ap- 
 proach and glided to her mother's side. She kneeled by her 
 in agony, and without a word buried her face in her out- 
 spread liands. The father felt that his presence was unwel- 
 come then and he considerately left them alone. 
 
 '• 0, mother, I did not think it would come so soon ! " 
 * " Hush, my darling ! Be very guarded in what you say. 
 Perhaps I can save you yet a little. longer." 
 
 " Do, mother, if you can. How can I leave you now? " 
 
 Mrs. Northfield told her husband that Mayon wished to 
 put off her decision for a while and in the meantime re- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 207 
 
 quested that slie might not see Ellis. Elder Northfield said 
 he should expect Mayon to be able to decide in a few weeks 
 at most, and lliat he trusted she would decide wisely. And 
 thus ^layon's days of life with her mother were numbered. 
 Nell now became quite forlorn as her supposed lover de- 
 serted her, and she was really to be pitied. But when she 
 learned that Mayon was considering the question of marriage 
 with him her young heart was filled with jealous indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 "Mayon," she said as she stamped her little foot, "you 
 were all the time playing a game to win. You knew he 
 liked you and meant to increase his desire for his prey by 
 keeping it just out of his reach. I now see what your modest 
 retirement in my favor meant. It meant treachery to me. 
 No doubt you laughed in your sleeve at thought of the dupe 
 he was making of me. But you are welcome to him. Such 
 a deceitful man as he is cannot be much of a prize, and I am 
 glad that it is you who have won him instead of me." 
 
 "I have not won Edward Ellis. I do not wish to marry 
 him. If I do it will only be in obedience to my father. If 
 you can win him for yourself, Nell, that I may go free in 
 peace, you will do me the greatest favor you ever did. I do 
 not wish to marry for a long time." 
 
 Nell was rather surprised, but faltered out: 
 
 " 0, it is too late now. It does very well to say so when 
 all possibility of such a thing is past." 
 
 "I did not know or suspect it till father told us of his 
 proj)osal for me. I supposed he was given his heart's desire 
 in having your society. Now, Nell, do not torment yourself 
 or me any more, but make yourself attractive and win the 
 prize." 
 
 " I don't think I could now, and don't know as I care to 
 try," said Nell, petulantly. 
 
 Edward Ellis did not feel like trusting fully to Mayon's 
 
208 ELDER NORTIIFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 decision, uninfluenced by lii[,dier authorities, altliough her 
 father was quite determined that he should have her. But 
 he went to Brigliani Young and stated the case, and Brig- 
 ham, as ever, was ready to help on the good work. 
 
 He had known sonietliing of the Gentile element in Elder 
 Korthfield's family, and was of the opinion that the sooner 
 an unbelieving daughter was settled with a Mormon husband, 
 the better. 
 
 He therefore interested himself in Ellis' case, and prom- 
 ised to call upon the girl. He did so, and as Mayon went to 
 the door to answer his summons, she experienced, to a de- 
 gree, the same horror that her father's words had caused. 
 He noticed her fear, and in a pleasant, fatherly manner strove 
 to talk with her in such a way as to put her at her ease, but 
 that was impossible, and soon she politely attempted to ex- 
 cuse herself, saying she would call the other ladies of the 
 house. But he stopped her and said she was the one he had 
 called to see. Then he referred to her matrimonial prospects, 
 and congratulated her upon the honor which had been con- 
 ferred upon her, trying to draw her into conversation on the 
 subject. 
 
 But Mayon could scarcely speak, so great was her agita- 
 tion. He gave her what was considered much good advice, 
 and she could only falter out that she thought she was too 
 young, and wished to wait till she was older. He then asked 
 her how old she was, and though Mayon felt that she could 
 not stoop to answer him, yet she was too frightened to refuse. 
 
 " 0, nonsense," said he, " you are quite old enough ; be- 
 sides, you look much older than you are. Now I hope you 
 will be a good girl, and make no trouble about this affair. I 
 counsel you, for your own best good in this world and in the 
 world to come, to accept Edward Ellis as your husband, and 
 do not delay your decision, my girl." 
 
 And with an attempt at a friendly conversation, the great 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 209 
 
 head of the Church left the subject, having done this duty 
 in the fear of the Lord (!) 
 
 It was not till now that Mrs. Northfield became aware of 
 the ordeal her child was undergoing alone, or she would 
 have come to her relief. Now she entered, and as Brigham 
 Young requested to see the whole family then present, Edith 
 and Nell were called and presented to the President. He 
 tried to make himself very agreeable, and manifested some 
 curiosity with regard to Edith, as it had been rumored that 
 she was ill-treated by her husband and his first wife. He 
 impudently asked her, in the presence of them all, if such 
 was the case, and though her eyes shone with anger at his 
 insult, she felt obliged to answer him. 
 
 She told him that no human being could be treated with 
 more kindness than she received. She feared he would sug- 
 gest to Elder Northfield that he take her out more, and that 
 she could not bear. 
 
 He then playfully pinched Nell's cheeks and pulled her 
 hair, saying : 
 
 " This little girl will before many years be contemplating 
 matrimony as her older sister now is." 
 
 " I am as old as May on now, into a few months," said 
 Nell, feeling hurt at being called a little girl. 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Northfield, " Mayon is but little older, 
 though she does not look like it." 
 
 " Well, well ; Nell, we hope you will soon have the good 
 fortune to receive as good an offer as your sister has." 
 
 " 0, I do not care for that," said she. 
 
 " What do you care for ? Riding ? If so, put on your hat 
 and shawl, and take a turn with me." 
 
 Nell instantly obeyed, feeling very much elated with the 
 honor of riding with Brigham Young. It almost compen- 
 sated for losing the attentions of Edward Ellis. 
 14 
 
210 
 
 " That man's insults are unbearable ! " exclaimed Edith. 
 '' I hope I may never meet him again. Poor Ma3'on, to havo 
 to endure a tite-a-ttte with him." 
 
 " I thought I should faint," said Mayon. " 0, do you think 
 I shall ever have to be tormented with his presence again ! 
 I believe I could even part with you sooner, mother, easier 
 than I could bear to meet him again." 
 
 "You shall not meet him again, my child; I will guard 
 against it." 
 
 The next evening her father sought Mayon, and talked a 
 long time to her in a persuasive w^ay, referring to the pros- 
 pect of her marriage. His words, though kindly spoken, 
 gave her a secret assurance that all opposition on her part 
 would be vain ; though she had suggested to her mother the 
 thought that if she utterly refused, her father "would not 
 force her into the marriage. 
 
 She could hardly control herself till she was at liberty to 
 seek her mother. She w^as almost frantic with excitement, 
 and almost beside herself with the constant torture she was 
 being subjected to. 
 
 Her mother feared that in the excitement of her terror she 
 would unguardedly betray her secret, and she decided with 
 Edith that the sooner she w'as sent away the better. She 
 feared for the condition of Mayon's mind if her torture w\as 
 continued, and decided that a final separation from herself 
 would not injure her as this constant harassing on the sub- 
 ject of marriage. Mayon and she both knew that that must 
 come, and perhaps the sooner the better for them both, as 
 matters now stood. 
 
 ^layon consented, like a poor, frightened child, to any 
 means for her safety, and seeing her half-wild condition, 
 Mrs. Northfield thanked God that even througli her ov/n 
 past trouble He had raised up a friend for her child in this 
 her hour of need ; for Mayon was incapable of caring for 
 
GACRIFICED ON THE MOr.:\ION ALTAT7. 211 
 
 herself, so p:reat vras lier mental exeitement ; but her motlicr 
 knew she could trust to Edith s clear head and loving heart 
 to sliield her child ironi all harm on the journey. 
 
 Tliis had come so suddeid}-, that neither of t!ie three could 
 fully realize what had liapi)ened and what was before them, 
 and there was little time to indulge in mourning, f(jr there 
 was much that the loving mother must do for her child, and 
 many preparations Edith wished to make for her own en- 
 trance into a strange land. A letter was dispatel;ed to 
 Elsie, to inform her of the arrival she must immediately 
 cxjiect. 
 
 Suspicion must not he roused, and so the preparations 
 for the departure had to be made very secretly. Once let 
 Nell become aware of what was going on, and Mayon was 
 lost, for Nell was perfectly in sympathy with her lather and 
 brotlier. 
 
 At last came the morning of the day previous to the one 
 on which the fugitives were to take their llight. With ]\Irs. 
 Northfield they were assembled in Edith's room, sadly talk- 
 ing of their coming separation, and speaking of the journey 
 they were to undertake on the morrow. 
 
 '' Hark ! " said Mayon, in a whis])er, " I think I hear foot- 
 Gteps." 
 
 All listened, hut in vain, and her mother said: 
 
 "It was only one of your nervous fears, Mayon. No ona 
 can be near us here." 
 
 Eor Editli's room was in a retired part of the house, where 
 it was seldom any one went exce])t her. 
 
 They resumed their conversation, and again Mayon's 
 strained cjir caught a sound. 
 
 " Mother, there is some one listening at the doer. It is 
 Nell's li-ht footstep that I hear. 0, what shall we do if Nell 
 lias heard what v.x* have been saying ! " 
 
 They watched the street from Edith's window, vrhich com- 
 
212 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 manded a view of it, and soon Nell's figure was seen speeding 
 in the direction of her father's business. 
 
 Their hearts sank and their hopes failed them, but the 
 mother's love quickened her faculties, and she exclaimed : 
 
 "Never fear, my dears; I will save you in spite of them 
 all ! I will, God helping me, defy every Mormon in the land 
 but my darling shall escape ! " 
 
 Her impassioned words revived the courage of Edith and 
 Mayon, and she continued: 
 
 " You must not wait till to-morrow ; it may be too late. 
 In three hours a train leaves here, and you must go on that 
 train. Get yourselves ready instantly for a start somewhere 
 away from the house. How can we tell but that in a few 
 moments your father will be here, brought by the news Nell 
 has given him, to put an end to it all. Probably he will 
 wait till his return at night, but I dare not risk a moment's 
 delay. Mayon, go to your room and dress quickly for your 
 journey, and leave me to think what to do. 0, God, help 
 me ! God help me now ! " 
 
 Edith proceeded quickly to dress, while Mrs. Northfield 
 went on as though thinking aloud : 
 
 "No, there is no hiding place I dare try; no one I dare 
 trust to ask for help. What shall I do? O, where can I 
 hide them? Edith, it will never do for you and Mayon to 
 take the train here ; it will be watched. Henry or Forest 
 will be there, if Nell has turned traitor and told tliem, as we 
 think. You must walk to the next station, for I dare not 
 procure a carriage. You can get there in three hours. Mayon 
 is strong and a good walker, and can do it comfortably; but 
 you, Edith, can you walk so far in three hours? " 
 
 "Yes, fori shall be walking towards freedom from this 
 bondage. I shall be helping my dear friend, who has been 
 BO kind to me and my mother years ago. Those thoughts 
 will give me strength." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE M0R:M0N ALTAR. 213 
 
 " You have not a moment to lose, and I will now go and 
 hasten Mayon." 
 
 As Mayon proceeded to dress, the hot tears filled her eyes, 
 almost blinding her, and everything she touched was wet 
 with tears. She was sadly in need of help. They made all 
 the haste that desperation could give to their movements, 
 and then the mother left Mayon, to procure the money that 
 was to pay the expenses of their journey. This sum was one 
 which she had been hoarding for years for this very purpose, 
 and which she had accumulated, little by little, by an eco- 
 nomical saving from her own expenses, unknown and un- 
 noticed by her husband. She had within a few days mate- 
 rially added to it, by the sale of her watch and other jewelry, 
 so that now there was enough, and more than enough, to 
 meet the wants of the refugees till other provision was made 
 for them. She now hastened to Edith, and placed in her 
 hands the well-filled purse. They could take no clothing 
 with them, and must give themselves the appearance of being 
 out for a walk merely. Mrs. Northfield was to send their 
 trunks after them. 
 
 "And Edith," said she, " you must travel as fast as possi- 
 ble. Do not stop over one train anywhere on the journey, 
 for you may be pursued. I think Henry will not go so far 
 as that, but I do not know what his anger may lead him to. 
 I am certain that he will be very angry for once, and not 
 without cause. I dread his wrath." 
 
 " My poor sister," said Edith, " how will you bear it all, 
 added to your sorrow of losing Mayon ? 0, it seems cruel 
 to leave you to endure the blame alone ! " 
 
 " I am so used to trouble, Edith, that I can bear this, 
 though my husband's anger and my separation from my 
 daughter will be new troubles ; but do not fear for me. I 
 shall be content when I hear that you and Mayon are safe 
 in New York." 
 
214 ELDER NORTIIFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 ^layon looked about licr room iliat was so dear to her, 
 where were many little reminders of Flora's ingenuity in 
 the execution of Gentile ideas of little ornaments, and then 
 she thought of Flora's grief and homesickness at lier separa- 
 tion from lier mother, and felt tiiat she too was leaving her 
 native land and all that was dear to her. Why could not she 
 have changed places with Flora and each remained in the 
 home so dear to her? She longed to see her friend once 
 more before she was forever separated from her, but her 
 mother recalled her thoughts to her own affairs, and with 
 her she descended to the parlor, where Edith stood waiting, 
 all equipped for a start. 
 
 Words cannot paint, pen cannot portray- the agonies of 
 that last farewell, as mother and daughter were locked in 
 one final embrace. 
 
 "Mother," said Mayon, as the former at last released 
 Mayon's hold on her, " I cannot leave you. I would rather 
 stay and suffer the consequences, mother; let me stay with 
 you ! " 
 
 Mrs. Nortlifield felt fliint, but she motioned them to go. 
 They turned towards the door, and looking back, Evlith saw 
 the agonized mother's face grow white as marble. She dared 
 not leave her thus, but started back to her. IMayon then 
 darted to her mother again, and with the n:iost passionate 
 grief covered her face with tears and kisses. 
 
 " Now, ni}^ dear ones, go," said she faintly, and they 
 obeyed. 
 
 After they had gone, many minutes passed unconsciously 
 to Mrs. Northfield. But nature restored her from her faint- 
 ing fi', and soon Nell entered with a (conscious, guilty look. 
 
 " Where is Mayon ? " she asked. 
 
 *' Gone with Edith for a walk," was the answer. 
 
 " When will they come back?" asked Nell suspiciously. 
 
 " I cannot tell. They have only just gone out." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MOR^ION ALTAR. 215 
 
 Again hatred came into her heart for this girl, who she 
 knew was seeking to defeat all her hopes and plans. She 
 hated her and feared her. She now continued to keep Nell 
 occupied, and with her, fearing that through her a discovery 
 would he made of Edith's and Mayon's premature flight. As 
 the liour passed, however, when she knew the train would 
 leave the adjoining station, whither they had gone, she 
 trusted they were safely on board and speeding away from 
 all that had made her life so sad. She now, with a sigh of 
 relief, relaxed her efforts to absorb Nell's attention and 
 breathed more freely. She now had leisure to think of her 
 own situation and to dread her husband's return at night. 
 But Forest came without him. 
 
 " Where is your father. Forest? " she asked. 
 
 " He had some unexpected business to attend to and took 
 the twelve o'clock train, saying he would be back early to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 That mother's heart then sank within her. He would be 
 upon the train with his wife and daughter, and would see 
 them as they stepped into the car at that little unfrequented 
 station. He would bring them back and their lives would 
 be ruined after all her hopes, plans and efforts. During the 
 evening, while locked in her room, she heard Forest and 
 Nell calling to her, and she knew they had missed Mayon 
 and Edith and were seeking them. But she could not answer 
 them. That night was a sleepless one to Mrs. Northfield. 
 At the coming of dawn she expected to see her husband re- 
 turning with the dear ones she had sent away ; but dawn 
 came, and with it her husband, but he came alone. Now 
 her heart gave a great bound for joy. He had no affection- 
 ate greeting for her this morning, but looked very stern. 
 She trembled as she met him. 
 
 " Marion," said he, " please call Edith and Mayon. I wish 
 to see them this morning before I go to my business." 
 
216 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR. 
 
 " They are not here, Henry." 
 
 " Not here ! What do you mean ? You have not accom- 
 plished your wicked scheme already, have you? Where 
 are they ? " 
 
 " They are on their way to New York, Henry. My dear 
 husband, I beg you will forgive me for doing you this wrong, 
 but I was obliged to do it." 
 
 " Obliged to do it ! Marion, do not try to excuse your 
 conduct in that way ! Why have you sent our daughter 
 away from me in this way ? Was she not mine as well as 
 yours ? What right had you to rob me of my wife, even 
 though I do not care for her ? Marion, I tell you you have 
 gone too far ! " 
 
 Her husband's eyes now glowed with anger, and Marion 
 was roused to resentment. Her fear was quite gone. Her 
 trembling ceased, and she boldly plead her cause. 
 
 " I sent May on away to save her from a wretched life like 
 mine. I repeat, I was obliged to do it. Could I, knowing 
 the curse, the misery, the anguish that would surely come 
 upon her if she accepted the fate you have prepared for her^ 
 could I be justified in making no effort to save her from a 
 life that would be worse than death? Does God give a 
 mother her children and not hold her responsible for what 
 they become in future years ? If you saw a man in certain 
 danger of death and reached out no hand to save him, you 
 would be guilty of murder. If I see my child approaching 
 what is worse than death and calmly and unconcernedly 
 allow her fate to overwhelm her, am I not guilty ? That is 
 why I was obliged to do this. My Mayon I long ago re- 
 solved should never be offered up a living sacrifice, as I have 
 been, to the shrine of Mormonism. I have looked for this 
 day to come for years ; but it came at last sooner than I ex- 
 pected. But I was ready for it, and I do not regret what I 
 have done. I only regret that it must be done, and that I 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 217 
 
 have in a certain sense acted the part of a traitor to you, but 
 better that than a lifetime of misery for Mayon." 
 
 " You speak of a union with Edward ElUs as a lifetime of 
 misery. What reason can you give for tha^> impression? " 
 
 " Tlie reason that every woman is miserable in polygamy, 
 and this man would in time enter into it, no doubt — every 
 Mormon does. Henry, even though I have had a husband 
 kind as any Mormon husband could be and live up to his reli- 
 gion, have I not suffered a lifetime of misery ? Have I not 
 been robbed of my reason, and almost of my life, by the ter- 
 rible workings of Mormonism ? Tell me, Henry, if you do 
 not believe I have suffered enough to make me fear to ex- 
 pose my beloved daughter to trials like mine? " 
 
 " Yes, Marion, I admit that you have taken your life very 
 hard, notwithstanding that I have tried to lighten the burden 
 that all Mormon women must bear ; but that does not alter 
 the fact that you have acted very wrongly in sending Mayon 
 and Edith away. Although you do not see it in that light, 
 you have sent them out of God's Church, where alone can be 
 found eternal salvation for their souls. You have basely de- 
 ceived one who has always trusted in you, and never will- 
 ingly wronged you. Marion, I did not think this of you. 
 You have twice in your life determined to desert me, and 
 now you have caused my wife and daughter to do me that 
 wrong. And yet, Marion, you have accused me of not loving 
 you. Have I ever given you the cause for such an accusa- 
 tion that you have given me ? " 
 
 Henry Northfield when angry could give utterance to the 
 most cruel sayings, and in a calm manner that made every 
 word cut the deeper. Marion felt the pain that no words of 
 his had ever inflicted before on her already aching heart. 
 But for Mayon's sake she could bear them. No mere words 
 of his could bring her back again. 
 
 " Henry," she said, " you have no right to refer to my 
 
218 ELDER NORTIIFIELDS HOME; OR, 
 
 acti')ns of those limes. You know that I was goaded ahiiost 
 to madness by my trouble, or I never should have thought 
 of leaving you." 
 
 "Well, Marion, what is done is done, and I shall not at 
 present try to undo your work, for Ellis would not now 
 accept a wife who had run away from liim, and a wife and 
 daughter who prove what Edith and Mayon have proved 
 themselves to be are not worth pursuing. Mayon never 
 seemed to love me much, though I have had a father's affec- 
 tion for her, and novr she has proved that she has no regard 
 for me. I liave not deserved this. I have tried to be a kind 
 father, and even in this matter have acted only for her best 
 good, if she could have been allowed to see it so." 
 
 Thus he left her in anger— something that, amid all her 
 troubles, had never occurred before. This came upon her 
 already desolate heart, and it seemed that her burden was 
 greater than she could bear. Could Mayon have looked into 
 her mother's heart, and read the woe and suffering that was 
 borne for her sake, she would have wished to return and 
 suffer with her, rather than that her mother should suffer 
 alone. Years had passed since Mrs. Northfield had been 
 called upon to bear such cleep sorrow as now. Her husband 
 continued his cold, injured manner, and Forest and Nell 
 avoided her as though she had been guilty of some great 
 crime. 
 
 The Sabbath came, and as Elder Northfield took his Sun- 
 day garments from their place, a little piece of folded paper 
 met his eye, as it protruded from one of his pockets. He 
 mechanically unfolded it, and it proved to be a letter from 
 his daughter Mayon. It was as follows : 
 
 " Dear Father: Please do not think I do not love you 
 to thus flee away from you. I see that you are determined 
 I shall marry Edward Ellis, even against my wishes. It 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 219 
 
 seems to mo, fatlicr, tliat I would ratlier die than marry a 
 IMornion, or a nian I do not love. Polygamy, even with a 
 kind husband as you have been, has made my mother's life 
 miserable, and can 3-0U bhime me for wishing to escape such 
 wretchedness in my own life ? You cannot realize the misery 
 of being forced into a marriage tliat is repugnant to one's feel- 
 m%s. I know you would not wish it if you did. I know, dear 
 fatlier, tliat you seek what you think is for my good, and, 
 believe me, I do not leave you without regret. But, father, 
 ])ut yourself in my place. Imagine that you had the faith 
 I have, instead of the Mormon belief. Try to feel as I do, 
 that what you are seeking for me would be a wretched fate, 
 and then you will freely forgive me, I know, for trying to 
 gave myself. Please, father, think lovingly of Mayon, if you 
 can, and forgive her. But 0, whatever you may think of 
 me and feel towards me, I beg of you, do not be angry with 
 poor mother. Her heart is ready to break with her sorrow 
 at parting with me, and angry words from you would bo 
 cruel. She has only done what she thought was her duty; 
 and though it seems a wrong to you, have not you followed 
 your convictions of duty, even though it brought greater 
 sorrow on mother than this act of hers can possibly bring 
 on you? You were pained to grieve her, and she is very 
 unhai)py to think of being obliged to deceive you, and send 
 me away from you. But mother believed you did not will- 
 ingly afflict her in acting as your conscience dictated, and 
 she forgave you; and how man}' times she has told me, lest 
 I feel hard towards you, 'It is not your father, ^layon, who 
 has done this, but his religion through his faith in it.' 
 Cannot you forgive as mother has, and believe that in 
 wronging you she only followed the dictates of her own 
 conscience, as you have done, and should »ot be blamed? 
 When you thirdv it all over, I am sure you will not wound 
 mother's already aching heart with one unkind word, but 
 
220 
 
 will pity her for her loneliness when I am gone, and will try 
 to make up to her for my loss. Do not blame mother for 
 Edith's flight. They tell me she never has been happy in 
 Mormonism since she realized its misery, when a little girl, 
 and she spoke to mother about leaving before she knew that 
 I was some time to go away from here. Mother told her 
 then, and it was arranged that we should go together. Once 
 more, dear father, I ask you to be forgiving and kind towards 
 mother and— " Your daughter, " Mayon." 
 
 Nobly had Mayon plead for her mother in her calmness, 
 as Mrs. Northfield in her excitement could not plead for 
 herself. Kind deeds were not all on the mother's side, and 
 Mayon had now performed one office of love which went far 
 towards repaying the great debt she owed. 
 
 Elder Northfield read this letter, and his eyes were opened 
 to the cruelty and injustice of his manner to his wife. 
 Mayon's pleading and expressions of affection touched his 
 heart, and he sought his wife and turned her grief to joy by 
 begging her forgiveness for his unkindness. Although he 
 still believed she had acted very wrongly, yet, as Mayon 
 had suggested, she had forgiven what she considered wTong 
 in him, and he should be no less magnanimous now tow^ards 
 her. Therefore pleasant relations were again established 
 between them. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HAD Edith and Mayon succeeded in reaching their des- 
 tination in time for the train, they would have un- 
 doubtedly been forced to accompany the husband and father 
 back into Mormonism. But a kind and merciful Providence, 
 often working in mysterious ways, ordered it otherwise. 
 They had proceeded nearly half the distance when Edith, in 
 her fast walking, stepped on a rolling stone and fell, sprain- 
 ing her ankle. She tried to hobble on, but it soon became 
 impossible for her to walk. Here was a new trouble, and an 
 insurmountable one. Edith urged Mayon to go on and leave 
 her, for there was no time to be lost; and if she could not 
 board that train, it might be too late, for there was no other 
 till the next day. 
 
 "But what will you do, Edith, if I leave you?" 
 
 " I will wait here by the roadside till some farmer comes 
 along to take pity on me, and take me either to the station 
 or back to the eity. Then I will follow you on the next 
 train, if possible; and if not, it will not matter much if only 
 you are safe. Take tlie purse and hurry on, Mayon." 
 
 "Never! I will not desert 3'ou ! As you cannot walk, I 
 will stay with you." 
 
 Mayon had regained her self-possession now that she felt 
 slie had started towards liberty, and acted as the leading 
 one of the two, shice Edith was almost helpless from her 
 pain. 
 
 They sat down to rest and consider the situation. They 
 were in a part of the highway enclosed by fields and forests, 
 
222 ET.DEU NOnTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 and not a house or human being was to be seen save one 
 little hut in the distance, Mayon spied it and said: 
 
 " I will tell you what we will do. I will lielp you to walk 
 to that hut, and if it is uninhabited, as I hope, we will se- 
 crete ourselves there till morning, when I hope you will be 
 able to go on. If not, or if we are overtaken before morning, 
 I will go back to my mother, whom I almost feel that I am 
 a coward to leave — whom I had almost rather not leave, 
 even if I must be a INIormon's wife. We will go back, and 
 I will marry Edward Ellis and submit to my fate, ^^'hy 
 should I seek a happier life tlian my mother had ? Why 
 should I deserve it?" 
 
 Mayon concluded to go first and examine the hut. She 
 came back and reported it empty. Then, with her help, 
 Edith succeeded in walking the intervening distance, and 
 there they hid themselves for the night. The weather was 
 not warm, and they suffered some from cold, though more 
 from their fears. No sleep came to their eyes ; but when 
 morning dawned Edith was able to walk with difficulty to 
 the station, and their hearts were filled with thankfulness 
 that at last they were speeding towards the Gentile world. 
 Later, when Edith learned how they had been delivered 
 from capture, she blessed God for the accident and pain she 
 had been allowed to suffer, and believed more firmly in 
 God's mercy, which she had felt inclined to doubt. 
 
 '' Lillian," said Elsie Bernard to her daughter, "here is a 
 letter from your aunt ]\larion. Poor Marion ! " 
 
 '* What does it say, mamma, about ^layon? " 
 
 '• It says we may expect her immediately, for she will start 
 for New York in a few days." 
 
 "What! So soon? It can't be those Mormons have 
 driven Mayon from her home alrcad}', by wanting her to 
 marry before she is grown up! " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 223 
 
 '' But it is SO, my dear. My sister writes that they are all 
 in great distress, caused by her father's determination that 
 Mayon shall marry his partner. She is secretly [)lanninj^ to 
 send her to us, and what is more, the other wife Edith is 
 coming with her." 
 
 ''0 1 am so glad that I shall soon have Mayon here with 
 me; but, mamma, did you ever hear of anything so ridicu- 
 lous as a girl travelling in a friendly manner with the 
 polygamic wife of her father? But aunt Wells will bo 
 glad, will she not, for she is the daughter of her lost Lillian's 
 governess, of whom she was once so lond?" 
 
 "Yes, Lillian, and we will all be glad that one more soul 
 will escape from Mormonism, and will give her a cordial 
 welcome for her own sake as well as for r.unt Wells'. But 
 let me see the date of this letter. Why, it must have been 
 delayed ! Lillian, they should be here by this time. Every 
 train must be watched, for they are strangers in a strange 
 land, and will not know how to find us." 
 
 So some member of the family was at the depot, and 
 watched the passengers of every train that might bring 
 them. But two days passed and Lillian began to be im- 
 patient, when she and aunt Wells returned, and as the 
 carriage door was opened Edith and iNLayon stepped out. 
 
 " Mamma !" exclaimed Lillian, "come and greet Mayon 
 and Miss Parker" (for Edith decided to assume her former 
 name — the name she considered her only lawful one). " Wo 
 only knew them by ^liss Parker, whom aunt Weils declared 
 was her dear Frances. And she could hardly be persuaded 
 tha': it was not her old friend instead of her friend's 
 dau^jhter." 
 
 The fugitives could ask for no more of love and welcome 
 than they here received. Lillian and ILirry were overjoyed, 
 and tlieir mother, as she warmly embraced her sister's 
 daughter, was blinded by tears of emotion. 
 
224 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 " 0, m}^ child," she said, "would that my dear sister might 
 have come, too. But where are the golden curls and blue 
 eyes that Marion's daughter should have? You are like 
 your father, Mayon." 
 
 Mayon answered, " Yes, I am like my father. You should 
 see Forest : he has mother's golden hair and blue eyes. He 
 is very handsome." 
 
 Elsie's heart w^nt out towards Mayon with almost a 
 mother's love, and aunt Wells was almost jealous of her 
 affection for her. 
 
 When Walter Bernard returned from business, with all 
 the sincerity of his noble heart he welcomed the fugitives to 
 his home, saying to Mayon : 
 
 " We have regarded you as one of our family for years, 
 you know, and feel now that our absent member has come 
 home. LiUian's happiness will now be complete, I believe, 
 and our friend Edith has always belonged to aunt Wells' 
 family, and as she and her friends belong to us, you see we 
 are now to be a very happy reunited family." 
 
 As Edith and Mayon sought their rest, the one sharing 
 aunt Wells' room, and the other appropriated by her cousin 
 Lilhan, there were two thankful hearts giving praise to the 
 all-wise Father, who had brought them safely to this haven 
 of rest. Sad were the thoughts of dear ones left behind, but 
 nothing could make them very unhappy in the bosom of 
 such a loving family, and though Mayon's pillow was wet 
 with tears, as she thought of a dear mother far away, yet 
 they were not altogether tears of sorrow. 
 
 The family life they had now come into, with its perfect 
 love and affectionate spirit, its absence of all jealousy, lack 
 of confidence, fam.ily jarring, and, above all, sad faces, was 
 a delightful study to these young Mormon women, who were 
 themselves inclined to sadness, and who were unaccustomed 
 to seeing happy women, young or old. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 225 
 
 Elsie, with her exuberant spirits, smiling face, and playful 
 manner, even at her age, formed such a contrast to her sister, 
 once as fair and gay as she, that they could onl}^ look at her 
 "with wonder, even though they had been prepared for change 
 in ever}^ way' in Gentile life. 
 
 Aunt Wells, too, though she had passed through life's sor- 
 rows and was nearing the grave, had a look of calm, sweet 
 content that surprised them. 
 
 They realized then the beauty of these family relations as 
 they could not from the teachings of a mother. Each had 
 been carefully taught in childhood all her mother was capa- 
 ble of teaching of Gentile life, but even from those teachings 
 no correct idea could be formed. Now they were in the 
 world and of the world. Though their mothers had longed 
 in vain for this blessing, the daughters were now enjoying it. 
 
 Edith gradually lost her quiet sadness, while Mayon, in 
 the warm influence of Lillian's sunny, merry temperament, 
 changed rapidly from a quiet girl, thoughtful beyond her 
 years, to a sprightliness in voice and manner which greatly 
 added to her charms. Thoughts of home and mother, how- 
 ever, oft brought the tears to her eyes and a quiver to her 
 tones. Her first act was to write a long, loving letter to her 
 mother, which was greedily devoured by the latter in her 
 anxiety to know of her daughter's safe arrival. 
 
 The question of IMayon's education was now to be consid- 
 ered. Lillian had entered a girls' school on the banks of the 
 Hudson a 3'ear previous, and was anxious that Mayon should 
 go there with her when she returned at the close of her 
 present vacation. 
 
 Mayon shrank from the publicity of a school, and felt that 
 it would be a painful ordeal for her to enter one, ignorant, 
 as she was, of all public institutions, and of the manners 
 and customs of the people. She had been reared in the 
 greatest of retirement, never having been in a school, and 
 15 
 
226 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 was consequently very timid and quite embarrassed with 
 strangers. She believed, however, that all Gentile girls were 
 kind and lovable. Her little experience of them justified 
 that opinion, and she wished she might have courage to be- 
 come one of the great number of pupils at Lillian's school. 
 Her anxiety to obtain an education was very strong, and she 
 was by no means ignorant of the knowdedge that books could 
 give her, for her mother had taught her welL 
 
 Aunt Wells, with her kind, clear good sense, settled the 
 question by saying : 
 
 " Mayon's studies should begin not with books or school- 
 life, but she must first learn of our manners, customs, re- 
 ligion, and social life. I say that the coming winter should 
 be devoted to society, pleasure, and sight-seeing in our city. 
 Mayon's first study should be of the geograph}^ of her new 
 home. We must make her life as gay and happy as a young 
 girl's life can be in New York city." 
 
 " Well said, aunt Wells," said her nephew, who was an 
 important member of that family council. " I am glad j^ou 
 agree with me that the poor girl should not be weighed 
 down with Latin declensions or mathematical problems now, 
 when all her life has been a thoughtful and somewhat sad 
 one. Make her so gay and happy that her voice will ring 
 with laughter as it does now with song." 
 
 " If only Lillian was to be at home," sighed aunt Wells, 
 *4t would be so much easier for Mayon to mingle in society." 
 
 But Lillian's whole course of study could not well be in- 
 terrupted, and soon Mayon had to part with her cousin, who 
 had assisted so much in rendering her first few days of life 
 in " the world " very happy ones. 
 
 Edith would not consent to remain dependent on the 
 bounty of her friends, and insisted on trying to obtain em- 
 ployment ; and at last, to content her, they gave her needle- 
 work to do, and thus she became the family seamstress. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 227 
 
 She was treated, liowever, as her mother had been by this 
 same old lady in her younger days, not as a servant, but as 
 a friend and member of the family. She could not be per- 
 suaded away from her life-long habit of remaining at home ; 
 and though ]Mayon was constantly going to see every phase 
 of life and entertainment the city afforded, yet it was only 
 when, with an affectionate caress, she said, " Please, dear 
 Edith, come with me this once," that she yielded. 
 
 Mayon was fast learning what her friends wished. She 
 became less shy and sensitive in company, with much tact 
 learning to avoid the oddities of manner peculiar to her 
 former life, and to adopt the customs of the people wdth 
 whom she associated. Always graceful, always beautiful 
 and intelligent, and distinguished as being a Mormon 
 refugee, it was no wonder that she made many friends in a 
 short time. The sights and sounds of the city, its schools, 
 libraries, etc., ceased after a time to be such wonderful ob- 
 jects of interest to her as at first. But attendance at church 
 was always a great delight. Never had she heard the 
 preaching of the Gentile religion, and with Edith she drank 
 in every word that fell from the minister's lips ; and though 
 they harmonized with her mother's teachings, yet new light 
 seemed to come to their souls, and they were something like 
 the poor heathen of other lands, receiving with wonder and 
 delight the gospel of Jesus Christ. Whenever they had at- 
 tended worship in Salt Lake City, they had listened to 
 exhortations to duty, obedience and sacrifice, the glory of 
 suffering for religion's sake, until, had it not been for the 
 teachings of careful mothers, they would have never known 
 that there was anything more cheering, more beautiful than 
 these sterner attributes. They were not told of the love 
 of God the Father to his children, and Christ's sacrifice 
 once for all for the world, was not referred to. Now they 
 weie led to realize the beauties of the Gentile religion, and 
 
228 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 many times Mayon's eager, happy face, sometimes tearful, 
 attracted the attention of her fellow- worshippers as she lis- 
 tened with an absorbing interest, all unconscious of her 
 surroundings. As the service closed it was with difficulty 
 sometimes that she could recall her mind to the practical 
 affixirs of life. Edith, too, intensely enjoyed these religious 
 services, and began to experience much of real happiness, 
 which she had said she never expected to enjoy. They 
 faithfully made record of everything of interest in their 
 lives for the comfort of one who had sacrificed so much for 
 her child. 
 
 When spring came, Edith began to tire of city life, sights 
 and sounds, and longed for the country. She felt a languor 
 and failing of strength, that caused her to contemplate seek- 
 ing occupation out of the city. Though loth to part with 
 her, as she w\as to leave them, her friends thought it wise to 
 grant her request, and seek employment for her with some 
 good family in the country. Dependent she would not be, 
 and they could not persuade her to accept support unearned 
 by herself. Mrs. Bernard found a situation for Edith with a 
 friend of hers some forty miles distant. Her duties were 
 confined to the partial care of two children and assistance in 
 the family sewing. She was very pleasantly situated, and 
 began to recruit in health and strength. Another vacancy 
 was made in the family circle of the Bernards in a few 
 months. During Lillian's long summer vacation she made 
 a new plea for Mayon's companionship in school. 
 
 " Mayon," said she, " I know you will be happy there, for 
 you love to study so well and there arc so many dear good 
 girls that you cannot feel lonely or timid among them all. 
 You will soon feel perfectly at home, and things will not 
 seem so strange or new as when you first came." 
 
 *' Yes, Lillian, I dare say I should soon get accustomed to 
 it, and like it very much. I think I should begin to study 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 229 
 
 now, for I wish to fit myself for teaching, tmcl should lose 
 no time." 
 
 "As to the teaching, I am sure there is no need of that; 
 but I will go to aunt Wells with my heart's desire, as she 
 seems to assume the right to guide your interests, and she 
 will not refuse if she knows we both wish it strongly." 
 
 " I vvill go with you, Lillian, and will be guided entirely 
 by her wishes; but I now feel as though I would really like 
 to try school life. That will be as great a novelty for me as 
 my experiences the past few months have been, for 3"ou 
 know I never entered a school-room till aunt Elsie took me 
 to visit the schools here." 
 
 Aunt Wells was inclined to grant the request of her nieces, 
 and it followed that one day two happy young girls bid their 
 friends good-bye and entered D Seminary, one as a re- 
 turned member, the other as a new pupil. 
 
 Mayon endured the scrutiny of a room full of school-girls 
 and a corps of teachers quite bravely. As her classes and 
 lessons were assigned to her, she went to work with a will, 
 and soon the embarrassment of her position wore off and she 
 began to make friends with her schoolmates. She felt that 
 zest and enjoyment in school-life that can only be known by 
 one whose education has been conducted hitherto in private. 
 Life to her was a glorious thing now; she was enjoying all 
 the blessings and advantages, all the joys that she had longed 
 for in Gentile life, save one — the companionship of father, 
 mother and brother. Thoughts of longing for them and 
 shades of liomesickness troubled her at times, in spite of all 
 her liappiness. 
 
 Mayon had from her first entrance into the school noticed 
 a slight, frail girl, whose graceful, pleasant ways and tone of 
 voice resembled her old friend. Flora Winchester. Then her 
 features reminded her of Flora, though the resemblance was 
 not strong. She heard one of her schoolmates address her as 
 
230 ELDER northfield's home; or, 
 
 Jessie, then she learned from Lillian that her name was 
 Jessie Winchester. 
 
 " O Lillian ! " said she, " can it be that she is poor Flora's 
 sister?" 
 
 And then for the first time she told Lillian the story of 
 Flora Winchester. She resolved to seek her and learn for 
 herself. So Lillian asked Jessie Winchester to come to their 
 room during recreation hour. She complied, and thus began 
 a friendship between Jessie and Mayon which was firm and 
 true, and lasting. 
 
 " Have 3' on a sister Flora? " asked Mayon. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose I have. Why do you ask? Have you 
 ever seen her? " 
 
 " I have seen a Flora Winchester from W , a girl who 
 
 had a sister Jessie and two brothers. I have seen her, and 
 known her, and loved her. She has shared my home and 
 my room, and was like a sister to me, and is even now dearer 
 than my own half-sister." 
 
 "0 tell me! where did j^ou see her? It cannot be, then, 
 that she went to Utah if this is true. You are not from 
 Utah, are you?" 
 
 " Yes, I came away from Salt Lake City a few months ago." 
 
 " Then, where and how is Flora now? " . 
 
 " She is there yet, and is the wife of Elder Burnside." 
 
 *' I knew it! I told mother so. I knew that man had 
 bewitched our Flora, or she never would have left us. O 
 dear I She was the light of our home, and we have not been 
 happy at all since she left; and I think flUher is the most 
 unhappy of us all, though he is still so angry at her that he 
 will not allow her name to be mentioned ; and we are all 
 forbidden to write to her, or to receive letters if she should 
 write. But mother and Carlos did write her two or three 
 letters, notwithstanding, though they never received any 
 answer. It was not long after she went away. Do you know 
 Y/hether she ever received the letters ? " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 231 
 
 " I think she never did," said Mayon. 
 
 "Father, I know, loved Flora the best of us all; but he 
 is very stern, if offended, though always kind if we obey 
 him. And I believe he would gladly receive Flora to-day 
 if it were not for his will and pride. I am so glad to see one 
 wlio can tell me about her, and one who has been kind to 
 her. How I thank you for being a friend to my sister! Little 
 did I think, when I noticed the tall girl, with large, dark eyes 
 and long curls, among the new-comers here, that she was 
 a friend to my sister. This is the first we have heard from 
 her. Now, please, tell me all about Flora, and I will listen." 
 
 Then Mayon told the eager, anxious girl all that she knew 
 of her loved sister and how she had vainly tried to persuade 
 her to return to her home. Jessie was affected to tears by 
 Mayon's account of Flora's homesickness, her longing for 
 friends and her marriage. She could not rest till she had 
 gained the consent of Mayon and Lillian to go with her to 
 her home, that her mother might hear from Mayon's own 
 lips Flora's recent history. They lived but a few miles from 
 the school, and Jessie returned to her home every Saturday, 
 there to spend the Sabbath. 
 
 " Father must not hear a word," said Jessie; " but mother 
 and the boys will be so glad to see you and hear you talk 
 of her. Mother has been almost crazy about her, wondering 
 what has been her fate. Almost any certainty would be 
 better for her than this suspense. We feared she would 
 marry if she went among the Mormons, unless she repented 
 and came back, and father made it almost impossible for her 
 to do that; besides, she is so proud she could never bear the 
 odium that would attach itself to her. Father feels her be- 
 coming a Mormon a disgrace; but if he were not so proud, I 
 know he would be as glad to hear from her as we are. Per- 
 haps in time he will change ; but, dear ! it is too late even 
 now to get her back, but it is such a comfort to meet one 
 
232 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 T^'ho has been a friend to her. Mayon — may I call you 
 Mayon ? I shall always love you for your kindness to my 
 sister." 
 
 Then she became interested in Mayon's own history, and 
 they talked till the bell rang for prayers. 
 
 The next week Lillian and Mayon went with Jessie to her 
 pleasant but unpretentious home, there to spend the Sab- 
 bath. Jessie had written that she w^ould bring friends home 
 with her, but had given no further information. When she 
 presented them to her mother, and explained that Mayon 
 had recently come from Salt Lake City and was a friend to 
 Flora there, and that her home had been Flora's home, then 
 the mother threw her arms round Mayon's neck and wept. 
 As soon as she could calm herself she requested Mayon to 
 tell her all she knew of Flora. Mayon did so, and emotions 
 of love, grief, thankfulness and fear for her daughter, filled 
 her heart as Mayon gave the different phases of Flora's his- 
 tory. The existing fact of her matrimonial alliance checked 
 all feelings of hope for her return. It cast a gloom over all 
 contemplation of her daughter. Poor Flora was doubtless 
 eternally lost to them ; but, in spite of the sadness of this 
 conviction, there was comfort in hearing from her and meet- 
 ing one who had been her friend and confidant. 
 
 Carlos Winchester had just finished his collegiate course, 
 and was now pursuing the study of law with an able lawyer 
 in the village. Leonard, who was the youngest of the family, 
 was preparing for college at the village academy. Their 
 father, wdio was in moderate circumstances, w^as yet able to 
 give his children the advantages of education, though his 
 business did not yield an income sufficient for the indulgence 
 of many luxuries. 
 
 Unknown to the narrator of Flora's history, also to his 
 family, this man was a listener to the last of her story. His 
 return from business was earlier than usual, or he would not 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 233 
 
 have heard Flora's name mentioned, for it had been forbid- 
 den, and never was spoken when there was any danger of 
 being heard by liim. Though outward obedience was yielded 
 him, yet in private it was not seldom that the mother and 
 her three remaining children referred to the missing fourth. 
 Mr. Winchester paused to listen at the door as his ear caught 
 the name, Flora, spoken in unfamiliar tones. He continued 
 to listen till he had learned much that roused his paternal 
 feelings. He left the house unperceived by his family, and 
 returned at supper time. Then was gathered the entire 
 family: the dignified, though kind father; the quiet, subdued 
 mother ; Carlos, with his tall, lithe figure, brown wavy locks, 
 lofty forehead, and kind, clear gray eyes, so resembling 
 Flora's that Mayon almost gave a start at sight of him ; 
 Jessie, whose sweet, graceful ways gave her a strong influ- 
 ence on her brothers ; and Leonard, sturdy, merry Leonard, 
 who tried hard to be quiet and dignified, like his father, but 
 in vain, and who often made his home ring with laughter by 
 the exercise of his fun-loving propensities. Lillian and 
 Mayon soon felt quite at ease with their new friends. 
 
 Carlos and Leonard were still in ignorance of Mayon's 
 knowledge of Flora or of her former home. Mr. Winchester, 
 after cordially greeting his daughter's friends, soon relapsed 
 into a preoccupied silence, and once, as his wife made some 
 reference to their visitors, he abruptly addressed Mayon as 
 Flora, and immediately recalled the name ; and again, on 
 being asked where a certain acquaintance of the family was, 
 he absently answered, "In Utah," then, seeming very much 
 embarrassed, he emerged from his absent-mindedness and 
 forced himself to become sociable, as was his custom with 
 his family. 
 
 On the following day the young people were assembled by 
 themselves, and Mayon repeated Flora's story for the benefit 
 of her brothers. They were intensely interested, and there 
 
234 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 were tears in Carlos' eyes and a tremor in his voice as he 
 grasped Mavon^s hand and said, ''God bless you for your 
 kindness to my sister," while Leonard fidgeted uneasily in 
 his chair, and at last exploded with, ''Hang it! why don't 
 the government put a stop to the whole thing? I would 
 like just to put a bullet through that scoundrel Burnside, 
 who robbed us of our Flora." 
 
 Mayon and Lillian were treated with the greatest of atten- 
 tion, and every possible means was employed to add to the 
 pleasure of their short visit. Each seemed to vie with the 
 other in showing grateful kindnesses to Mayon, and when 
 the three returned to school, the warmest, heartiest hand- 
 grasp was that of Mr. Winchester. Mayon heartily wished 
 she dared speak freely to him of his daughter, but Jessie 
 enjoined her to refrain from such a course. This was only 
 the beginning of an intimate companionship and much time 
 spent in the society of the Winchester family. For Mayon 
 came to them something like a representative of their lost 
 one, and in a certain degree began to fill her place in their 
 hearts. Carlos said she must allow them to regard her as a 
 sister when with them, and, as he had formerly been devoted 
 to his favorite Flora, he now monopolized much of Mayon's 
 time, and delighted in her society ; not, however, exhibiting 
 a warmer feeling than that friendly brotherly interest which 
 had been awakened through his affection for his absent sis- 
 ter. Mayon souglit to learn from her mother's letters of 
 Flora's ])resent circumstances, and to open through their 
 letters a correspondence between her and her family, but she 
 had removed with her liusband to a distant part of the Ter- 
 ritory, and moved again, till Mrs. Northfield had lost all 
 trace of her. She at last was told where they were living, 
 and sent several letters to her address, but received no an- 
 swer; so the efforts to establish a correspondence with her 
 or concerning her were fruitless, and her friends could learn 
 no more of her than what Mayon had told them. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 235 
 
 A year passed, and rapidl}^ and profital)ly to Mavon, 
 whose only sorrow was her separation from her mother. 
 They constantly cheered each other, however, with long let- 
 ters of unreserved confidence. 
 
 Mayon and Lillian, who excelled in scholarship, were 
 among the competitors for prizes, and proved formidable 
 rivids for their classmates. Mayon made good use of her 
 time, and had become a great favorite with teachers and 
 scholars. Even her schoulmates' petty jealousy for the 
 Mormon girl's superiority she warded off by kindly ignoring 
 its existence, and winning the love of all. 
 
 Although in Mayon's intercourse with the Winchesters no 
 attempt now was made to keep secret from Mr. Winchester 
 her former home and life in Mormondom, yet no word had 
 been spoken by him to any one with regard to Flora. But 
 all were glad to observe that he always listened with peculiar 
 interest to anything Mayon had to say of her life in Utah, 
 though he never had asked her one question on the subject. 
 But one day he invited her to ride with him alone, and then 
 he questioned her concerning the doctrines, regulations and 
 marriage relations of the Church. He asked particularly of 
 the latter, and showed much desire to become informed con- 
 cerning the character of the Mormon men, from Brigham 
 Young down to the most obscure male member of the Church. 
 He sought to learn whether they were, as a rule, kind and 
 humane, or otherwise. Mayon could not give an answer to 
 this question very favorable to the generality of Mormons, 
 but, speaking from her own experience, she had little to say 
 to their discredit. She told him, in the course of their con- 
 versation, of a young girl who came to them from tlie East, 
 deceived into the belief by an elder, and forbidden her 
 father's house in his anger. She spoke in strong terms of 
 the girl's unhappiness and homesickness, of her longing to 
 receive the kind, loving look of her then angry parent, of her 
 
236 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 sorrow at separation from mother, sister and brothers, and 
 of her own effort to persuade her to give up her false religion 
 and return, a penitent, to her father's house. She repeated 
 the reply the girl had made, saying it was too late, for her 
 father had declared she never should enter his house again ; 
 and, though she longed to return to her home, yet it was 
 now impossible, and she would make the best of it. 
 
 Her companion was silent at Mayon's conclusion, and when 
 he spoke, his voice was husky, in spite of hiniself. Mayon 
 hoped she had softened his heart towards his erring daughter, 
 and not without reason. Though still too proud to speak of 
 her, yet the ice in his heart was thawing. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 237 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AT the close of Mayon's second year at school Lillian 
 graduated, and with honor, and Mayon knew that 
 when she returned after vacation she must come alone. 
 Therefore graduation day was rather a sad one to her. But 
 Jessie's parents had invited her to spend the summer months 
 at her home, and, as she had never spent much time in the 
 country, she was very glad to accept the invitation. Lillian, 
 and indeed her aunt's whole family, regretted to be deprived 
 of lier society, but aunt Wells said : " It is just wliat she 
 needs. She has become familiar with city life and with 
 school life, and it is time she now enjoyed the delights of the 
 country." So Mayon left the school with Jessie instead of 
 with Lillian as usual. How she enjoyed the pure air, the 
 green fields, the wild flowers and freedom from all the re- 
 straints of school discipline or city conventionalities ! 
 
 Carlos was also taking a vacation from his studies, and as 
 Jessie was busy mornings assisting her mother about her 
 household duties it fell to Carlos' lot to entertain his sister 
 Mayon, as he called her. So together they read Shakespeare, 
 or took long morning drives or walks in the fields and forests 
 with a view to a practical study of botany. But one, at least, 
 was learning in the close companionship of these sunny daj^s, 
 a lesson of a different character. Carlos did not so often call 
 Mayon, sister, as he had done, and, as he offered her many 
 little tokens of esteem, spoke words expressing his high re- 
 gard for her, he was annoyed to see how composedly she 
 received them, with perfect unembarrassment. They never 
 
li:LDER NORTHFIELD S HOME ; OR, 
 
 called a conscious blush to her check or hesitating tremor in 
 her voice. He knew her heart was stirred by no answering 
 emotion to the sentiment he now felt for her. Perfectly un- 
 conscious Mayon continued to enjoy his society, and received 
 at his hands the many pleasures the country afforded to one 
 "who had never known its attractions. Perhaps a Gentile 
 girl would have seen in his manner more than a brotherly 
 affection, but Mayon did not yet thoroughly understand 
 Gentile life, and anything that seemed strange or peculiar to 
 her in it she attributed to her own ignorance of anything 
 outside Mormonism. 
 
 "Jessie," said Carlos one day when alone with his sister, 
 " do you think Mayon ever thinks of me in any way but as 
 a brother or intimate friend ? " 
 
 " Why, Carlos? " innocently asked Jessie. 
 
 " Because," and then Carlos' cheek reddened — " Jessie, I 
 will tell you a secret. I am tired of being her brother : I — 
 I — I wish to be regarded in a different relation. You under- 
 stand, Jessie. I love IMayon with my whole soul, and I be- 
 lieve she does not suspect it, and cares no more for me than 
 for many another friend. I have tried to give her little hints, 
 but she takes them so exasperatingly cool, and returns my 
 affection in such a wise, sisterly manner, without the slightest 
 shade of embarrassment, that sometimes I get desperate and 
 have to bite my lips to keep them from saying certain 
 things. I think she would be shocked and very sorry, and 
 would go aw^ay from here, and then — Jessie — how lonely 
 we should be ! " 
 
 " Dear Carlos, I did not think matters were so serious as 
 that. Do not be so hopeless. Even if no such thought has 
 entered Mayon's head there is plenty of time yet for that 
 result, and at least you have the comfort of knowing she is 
 fond of you. Carlos, nothing would suit me better than that 
 you should make Mayon really what she seems, my sister; 
 
SACRIFICED OJ\ THE MORMOrM ALTAR. 239 
 
 and father and mother I am sure would be very much 
 pleased. Remember, ' Faint heart,' etc., Carlos." 
 
 "Yes, sister, I will, but I will control my tongue till 
 Mayon's happy summer draws to a close, at least, unless she 
 pjives me more reason for hope." Thus saying Carlos lelt 
 her, but alas for tlie frailty of human resolutions ! 
 
 Not a week had passed when one day as he and Mayon 
 had seated themselves on a m.ossy bed, by the side of a little 
 fairy stream in a valley thickly wooded with pine, and were 
 analyzing specimens of the forest wild flowers, Carlos be- 
 came so confused as to awkwardly pull the delicate flower 
 to pieces, scattering it upon the ground at his feet, making 
 the most absurd blunders in the use of botanical terms. 
 
 " Carlos, Carlos," exclaimed Mayon, " what are you saying 
 and what are you doing ? Look at that poor little blossom 
 all torn in pieces. What are you thinking of to destroy it 
 so ? You look as though you would like to annihilate the 
 whole floral kingdom." 
 
 " Mayon," said he, and he clasped her hand in his, " I will 
 tell you what T am thinking of, if you will hear me. I am 
 thinking of one who came to my home and filled a sister's 
 place in my heart. A dear sister she became too, and I find 
 too dear for my peace of mind, if our present relations 
 toward each other continue. Mayon, I love you with no 
 brother's love. Be a sister to me no longer, but promise to 
 become my wife some time." 
 
 " 0, Carlos," said Mayon, as she attempted to withdraw 
 her hand, but he held it fast, "I am so sorry. I never 
 dreamed of this. I love you, Carlos, but not in that way. 
 No, I cannot be your wife. I never thought of that. Please 
 do not blame me for letting you say this. How could I 
 know you thought of me in this way ? Please, dear brother, 
 forget it all, and let us be the same to each other as before." 
 Mayon's cheeks were rosy enough now with blushes, and her 
 
240 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 voice had all the tremor in it that Carlos would have been 
 glad to note in past days. 
 
 " But, Mayon," said he, " if you have never thought of this, 
 won't you think of it now? You confess that you love 
 me as a brother, and may not time ripen that affection 
 into something stronger? At least, give me some hope, 
 Mayon ! " 
 
 " I can't, Carlos. O, do try to forget it all and be the 
 same to me as before. You have been such a kind brother 
 to me I feel that it will be hard to lose you, but I am sure 
 if I — if — if I ever marr}^ I must love very differently from 
 this. I should wrong you to give you in return no more 
 affection than I have for you." 
 
 "But I could win your love in time I do believe, for, 
 Mayon, I would be so kind to you. I would devote my 
 whole life entirely to you. I will wait, so patiently, if at 
 last you will be mine. Mayon, dearest Mayon, let me ask 
 you again, in a year — two years ? " 
 
 Mayon became very sad now. It wrung her heart to re- 
 fuse this passionate plea for her love, and she was tempted 
 to give him hojie. But she felt in doing so she would be 
 doing wrong, and at last found courage to utterly refuse 
 him. " O please, Carlos," said she, " please forgive me for 
 wounding you. I wish it might be so, but it is impossible. 
 Please do not blame me for letting you come to this, for I 
 never suspected it. I think I had better go to New York 
 now." 
 
 " No, Mayon, I will be man enough not to trouble you 
 further ; and since you decide against my suit, we will again 
 be to each other as brother and sister, and we will try, as 
 you say, to forget all this; but, Mayon, in spite of all you 
 say, I shall hope that some time you will change. It is not 
 quite impossible that some time you may know that your 
 sisterly love has changed to a warmer sentiment. I shall 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 241 
 
 comfort myself with that hope. In the meantime we will 
 try to be happy as we have been." 
 
 " Shall we go now, Carlos ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mayon, and we will come again to-morrow and at- 
 tend more closely to our botanical studies. These poor 
 flowers have been torn to pieces as my hopes have : but 
 Bee, they are not quite destroyed, neither are my hopes." 
 
 They returned to the house, and Mayon spent the after- 
 noon with Jessie as usual. But before her head rested on 
 its pillow she had confided that day's experience to paper 
 for a loving mother's eyes to read, and she felt more tranquil 
 and happy. But though Jessie never referred to the subject 
 she felt sure she knew what had transpired, for she seemed a 
 little sorrowful and thoughtful, though not one whit less kind 
 and affectionate. Carlos, too, did not abate in his zeal for 
 Mayon's happiness, and her heart was touched. As matters 
 stood she was rather glad when the close of her vacation 
 drew near, and she returned to New York for a few days be- 
 fore beginning another school year. 
 
 The farewells with these friends and the greetings of her 
 uncle's household were hardly over when Mayon received a 
 short letter dated at Salt Lake City, informing her that her 
 mother's health was failing rapidly, and that if she cared for 
 her as a daughter should, she would return immediately, for 
 her absence was a source of much suffering to her mother. 
 Said the writer : " Mrs. Northfield is not fully aware of her 
 own condition, and therefore has probably refrained from 
 alarming you, or requesting you to return. Trusting that 
 you will act wisely and dutifully, these lines are penned by a 
 friend." The writing was unfamiliar and no name was signed 
 to the letter, but Mayon's heart was filled with fear and grief. 
 " my poor mother ! and I have been away from her so 
 long — more than two years since we parted. It is just like her 
 thoughtfulness, to keep me in ignorance of her suffering that 
 16 
 
242 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME J OR, 
 
 I might not be troubled. But some kind friend has informed 
 me, and instead of going back to school I will go back to 
 my mother, and remain as long as she needs me. Perhaps 
 (with a sigh) I shall remain all m}^ life, but at any rate I 
 have had two beautiful years of life in the world." 
 
 Her uncle examined the letter and expressed the fear that 
 it was far from a friendly one, but written with the purpose 
 of decoying Mayon into Mormonism again. 
 
 Mayon said : " If it is so, I can come back again." 
 
 '' But," said her uncle, " would it not be wise to w^ait till 
 you can write and hear again from your mother? " 
 
 " O, I cannot w^ait, uncle ! See, the writer says she is fail- 
 ing rapidly, and if I w^ait, I may be too late. My poor 
 mother sick, and with her daughter so many hundred miles 
 aw^ay ! I feel that I was almost cowardly to leave her at all." 
 
 "But, Mayon, I feel afraid there is something under- 
 handed about this. Anonymous letters are suspicious. It 
 will only require a few days to settle all doubt." 
 
 " But a few days may be too late. The letter says she is 
 rapidly failing, but is not aware of her own condition. That 
 is why she has not written of it to me ; she did not know her 
 real condition and did not wish to alarm me. O, uncle, 
 please do not refuse your consent to my immediate return 
 to my mother. Think how I have not seen her for two long 
 years, and what if she should die with no Mayon by her 
 Bide and I should never see her again! " 
 
 " But, my dear, are you not afraid that it will be impossi- 
 ble for you to get away again if you once return ? " 
 
 "No, I think not, for mother writes that father feels 
 very different now towards me; and even if I never leave 
 Utah again, I must go to my mother. 0, uncle Walter, 
 please let me go." 
 
 "Well, Mayon, I shall not refuse you, but I am afraid the 
 writer is dealing in foul play." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 243 
 
 " No one could do such a cruel thing as that. I think some 
 kind-hearted person has written for mother's sake and mine." 
 
 The separation from Mayon's new friends was entirely un- 
 locked for, and as she thought that possibly it might be a 
 separation for life, it was a very sad one to them all-. There 
 was not the anguish and agony of fear, however, that made 
 Iier separation from her mother so terrible, and she was not 
 fleeing like a slave or criminal now, but was in God's free 
 land, and could leave with no fear of molestation. Sad 
 thoughts were hers concerning the giving up of her school 
 life and departure with no final farewell to the Winchesters, 
 but they were only fleeting thoughts, for her heart and head 
 were too full of anxiety for her mother and preparations for 
 her journey. 
 
 Mrs. Northfield was sitting quietly and alone in her little 
 parlor one day re-reading Mayon's last letter, written on the 
 day of Carlos' proposal to her. She laid it down and sat, 
 with eyes closed, thinking. From the expression of her face, 
 though there was a look of longing there, her thoughts were 
 evidently not unpleasant. She had the appearance of rest- 
 ing in mind and body. There was a quick, nervous peal at 
 the door-bell. Slie started, and opening the door, wonder- 
 ingly faltered, 
 
 " May on, Mayon, can this be you ! " 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " exclaimed Mayon, and mother and 
 daughter were again locked in each other's arms. Again 
 their tears mingled, though their lips refused to speak. 
 
 " You are better, are you not, dear mother ? " asked Mayon 
 as soon as she could speak. 
 
 " Better ! Wliat do you mean, my child ? " 
 
 " Have you not been ill ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, my health has been very good of late — 
 better than usual." 
 
244 ELDER KORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 ''0, I am so glad! I expected to find you sick, perhaps 
 dying. That is why I am here ; but I am glad I am here 
 after^all. O, mother, the years have been long when I 
 thought of you, but so short for the happiness that has 
 been crowded into them ! " 
 
 " Thank God for that, my darling ; but why did you think 
 I was sick?" 
 
 "Some one here has written to me, saying my mother's 
 health was failing rapidly and advising me to inmiediately 
 return to her. Uncle was right ; some one has deceived me ; 
 but why should any one do it? " 
 
 " O, Mayon, I almost wish you had not come, though my 
 heart has ached with my lonehness, and I am so happy to 
 see the face I feared I should never behold again. But I 
 fear there is something wrong about this— some injury con- 
 templated towards you." 
 
 " Can it be that my father had anything to do with it ? " 
 
 " No, Mayon. I am so happy of late to see a change coming 
 over him, especially in the last few weeks. I think— I do 
 believe that in time he will see the error of his whole life 
 and apostatize. Mayon, I believe better days are coming. 
 Your father has seen so much dishonesty and avarice in 
 Brigham Young and the councillors and apostles, and so 
 much of the sad results of polygamy, that I think his faitli is 
 wavering. He does not say much on the subject, but I 
 notice he does not attend the meetings as regularly as he has 
 done, and he is studying the Bible a great deal. Thus, 
 Mayon, what has affected his personal interests has affected 
 his' faith somewhat. Some of the most religious men of the 
 church,— men in whom he has always had great faith,— have 
 by their dishonesty been the means of the loss of so much 
 money to him that he was fearful his whole ])usiness would 
 -be swamped. I have been waiting to see how the affair 
 came out before writing to you about it; but though all were 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 245 
 
 lost, and we became penniless, I could rejoice if it were the 
 means of opening up the way to our freedom from this re- 
 ligion." 
 
 "That will be a joyful day if it ever comes," said Mayon ; 
 " and, mother, how will father receive me? I have dreaded 
 to meet him, but perhaps if he is so changed he will receive 
 me kindly." 
 
 " I think he will, for he has been quite lonely since Nell 
 was married." 
 
 Nell had been married a few months previous, and was 
 the third wife of a still quite young man. She was yet his 
 reigning favorite, and still looked with favor on Mormonism 
 with all its institutions. She had yet to learn that she was 
 only the plaything of the hour, to be thrust aside as a child 
 thrusts aside a toy that has given him great delight, for a 
 newer and more attractive one. 
 
 Mrs. Northfield's happiness had not been lessened by 
 Nell's departure, for she had never been a source of pleasure 
 to her, but very many times the reverse. Forest was away 
 from the city preaching in some of the smaller settlements, 
 and the house was quite lonely, though Marion did not feel 
 the loneliness as she would but for her happiness at hope of 
 a change in her husband and her pleasure in her daughter's 
 happy life and prospects. 
 
 She noticed with joy that a great change had come over 
 Mayon in two years. She was now so happy and buoyant, 
 in contrast to her former depressed manner. Her face had 
 lost its look of fear and dread, and her eyes shone with a 
 new light. Her mind had become stored with knowledge in 
 many departments. The same vigorous health was still hers, 
 and her mother felt that two years of absence had but added 
 so much of beauty, cultivation and goodness to her child. 
 They talked of Edith, who was still in the country earning 
 her own livelihood, of Elsie and her family, of Nell, and of 
 
246 ELDER NORTHFIELD S HOME ; OR, 
 
 Flora and her friends. There was so much to he said of the 
 occurrences of two years that hours fled unheeded by them 
 both. At last the father's footstep was heard in the hall. 
 
 "0, let me hide, mother, till you have told him I am 
 here," said Mayon, and she started to leave the room ; but as 
 she opened the door at one side of the room, her father en- 
 tered at the other. 
 
 He stopped short at sight of Mayon, in bewildered aston- 
 ishment. Mayon turned back to lier father and said : 
 
 " Father, have you forgiven me ? " 
 
 "Forgiven you! Yes, my child, I have forgiven you. 
 Have you forgiven me ? " 
 
 " 0, yes, father, with all my heart." 
 
 Then he folded Mayon close in his strong arms, and both 
 felt that they were in loving sympathy as they never were 
 before. The mother witnessed their meeting with a heart 
 overflowing with joy. Happiness was at last coming into 
 her life after many years. 
 
 " Now, Mayon, how came you here, and why did you at- 
 tempt to run away from me a second time? " 
 
 " I only meant to give mother a chance to tell you I was 
 here before you met me. I confess I did not think you 
 would be so glad to see me." 
 
 " But I am, my daughter, very glad indeed. I think I 
 was a little mistaken with regard to my ideas of duty. I 
 think now that each one should be allowed to follow the 
 dictates of his or her own conscience, and I regret that I 
 ■book it upon myself to decide and determine upon your 
 course, but I thought I was doing what was for the best at 
 the time." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, father, and it has resulted, I hope, in 
 no harm." 
 
 " But, ]\Iayon, you have not told me why you came back 
 to us so unexpectedly." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 247 
 
 Then Mayon gave an account of the letter, and handed it 
 <jO him to read. As he read he grew serious and his brow 
 darkened. 
 
 " I am afraid there is something evil in this," said he. 
 " The leaders were all very much stirred up at your de- 
 parture, or apostatizing as they call it, and Brigham Young 
 in particular, as he had interested himself enough in your 
 case to call upon 5^ou and counsel you. Ellis was very much 
 chagrined and disappointed, but said had he any idea you 
 were so much opposed to his acceptance he would have with- 
 drawn his suit. I received many expostulations for not pur- 
 suing 3^ou, and there was even talk of attempt among them- 
 selves to get you back by some means ; but I warned them 
 not to interfere with my affairs, and Ellis did the same (for 
 he is an honorable man), and then they charged me with 
 conniving at your escape. They accused me of being next 
 door to apostasy ; but after a time the storm blew over and I 
 have heard nothing on the subject for a long time. But this 
 letter looks as though thc}^ had not forgotten it, and were 
 attemj^ting to get you back into Mormonism again." 
 
 " But, father, there is no danger that they can keep me 
 here, is there ? I can step on the train any time, you know, 
 and go to New York." 
 
 " No, they cannot force you to stay. When you wish to 
 return to New York, you shall do so, if I have to go with you 
 to protect you." 
 
 Certainly her father had changed, and that wonderfully; 
 and Mayon was quite happy at thought of the possibility 
 of his accompanying her out of Mormonism. 
 
 " Marion," said Elder Northfield to his wife, " who can be 
 the author of this letter, and what does it mean ? " 
 
 "I think," said she, "it is only an attempt to decoy Mayon 
 back again, with the hope that she will remain. You know 
 they fear the influence of apostates in the Gentile world, 
 
248 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 particular!}^ educated persons. And they may know of the 
 course of study she is pursuing. But there can no harm 
 come from it, for Mayon can never be persuaded to become 
 a Mormon, so let us not give ourselves any uneasiness con- 
 cerning the letter." 
 
 " No, we will not trouble ourselves ; but I shall quietly 
 endeavor to discover the rascal who wrote it." 
 
 Mayon was now home again — home, even though it was 
 in the midst of the iniquity and superstition of Mormonism. 
 Here all her childhood days had been spent, and here all 
 tender memories of the past centred. Again she was with 
 her dearly beloved mother, and the barrier was broken down 
 between her and her father. For the last years of her life 
 at home she had hidden in her bosom a secret from him— a 
 secret jealously guarded, and from its nature it instigated a 
 feeling of defiance towards him. This was all gone now, and 
 complete confidence was restored between them. Mayon 
 now began to regard her sojourn in the city as a visit, for 
 her mother insisted on her return to her school in a few 
 weeks. The term had now begun, but Mayon had brought 
 her books, and as well as she could, without her teacher, she 
 continued in her studies. She went with her mother to see 
 Nell in her new home, and was received quite cordially. 
 She was established in a fine house, but it was cursed like 
 most houses there with polygamy. One of the first wives 
 entered the room, and was presented to Mrs. Northfield and 
 Mayon. She seemed to be in no very amiable mood, and 
 soon left the room. 
 
 " Eliza has the sulks worse than ever to-day," said Nell. 
 " She and Mary are very jealous of me, but that does not 
 trouble me at all. I know they cannot harm me; they have 
 had their day, and ought to be wilHng that I should have 
 mine now. Are you not tired of Gentile Mfe, and come back 
 to remain now, Mayon ? " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 249 
 
 "No, Nell, I shall return in a few weeks. I am only 
 making a visit." 
 
 " Forest's prophecy does not seem to be fulfilled with re- 
 gard to your marrying a Mormon — I mean the prophecy he 
 made the day we three quarrelled so about Alice Clark's 
 marriage." 
 
 " No, Nell, I am of the same determination that I was 
 then. But, speaking of Alice Clark — how and where is 
 she?" 
 
 " 0, she is dead. The other wives led her a wretched life, 
 and during a quarrel between them Alice fell down the 
 stairs, and died soon after from her injuries. She had not 
 the faculty for getting along with them, as I do with my hus- 
 band's wives. I have no trouble." 
 
 May on felt a lack of sisterly love for Nell, as she conversed 
 with her, and they did not remain long, but went to the home 
 of Carrie — Elder Parker's now deserted wife. 
 
 She had taken a smaller house and had to nearly support 
 herself. Francis, Edith's brother, had now a wife and two 
 children. Edith had left for him, at the time of her flight, 
 an affectionate letter, urging him to discard Mormonism, and 
 be guided by the teachings of their mother, and follow her 
 into the Gentile world. She enclosed a farewell letter to 
 Carrie, who had been like a mother to her. Francis was a 
 Mormon, more through the force of circumstances than from 
 heartfelt faith in its teachings. Polygamy he looked upon 
 with disfavor, and had no intention of practising it. He was 
 well situated pecuniarily, and did not contemplate entering 
 the Gentile world, though his mother's early teachings and 
 Bufferings had made too deep an impression upon his mind 
 to give him any religious zeal. Carrie never had any chil- 
 dren, and was a lonely and sad woman, though Francis did 
 not neglect her, but with his wife and children were her 
 devoted friends. Elder Parker was again on a mission to 
 
250 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 England, but it made little difference to Carrie where he was. 
 There had always been a bond of sympathy between Marion 
 and Carrie since they emigrated in each other's company. 
 Marion had gone out more since Edith and Mayon left her, 
 and a firmer friendship was established between them. 
 Mayon promised to visit Carrie again, and t-hey returned 
 home. 
 
 Mayon felt that, though she had entered her cage again — 
 the cage of Mormonism— yet she was not secured in it, and 
 was free to take her flight at any moment. So she breathed 
 freely, and the days passed very happily, although the sor- 
 rows of polygamy touched her with a new sympathy: for 
 she had been in the world and enjoyed its happy domestic 
 relations, and the contrast only brought before her mind 
 more vividly the miseries of her native land. One day, after 
 she had been very thoughtful on this subject, she said : 
 
 " Mother, you know the Gentiles are sending missionaries 
 to foreign countries to enlighten and convert the heathen ill- 
 treated women. I have often wondered why they never think 
 of sending missionaries to convert the poor women here, for 
 many believe that polygamy is right, and those who do not 
 are so forced to submission and ignorance that they do not 
 think escape possible. Now, what is needed is that en- 
 lightened women go quietly among the women here and tell 
 them of the love of Jesus, show them the right religion, and 
 persuade them to leave Mormonism ; and there should be a 
 society to aid them with funds to leave. Why does the 
 nation send such generous supplies for the heathen in the 
 old world, and let the heathen in their midst continue in 
 their ignorance and debasement? " 
 
 " I do not wonder you ask, Mayon, for if ever missionary 
 work was needed, it is here; but a missionary would perhaps 
 meet with worse persecution here than in many so-called 
 heathen countries, for here an attack upon the religion is an 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 251 
 
 attack upon the government. Brigham Young's t3'rannical 
 rule is accomplished only through his influence on his sub- 
 jects' religious sensibilities. Otherwise this bondage would 
 be impossible in free America." 
 
 " Mother, let me tell you what I have been thinking of. 
 I want to try to help some poor souls out of this bondage. 
 Why can I not, in a limited sense, become such a mission- 
 ary, and try to persuade some of the young girls here to 
 renounce Mormonism ? " 
 
 " It would be a noble work, my dear, but a dangerous one. 
 Our family has called down so much indignation from the 
 Church that I dare not risk the enterprise." 
 
 " But I would w^ork very cautiously and secretly, and, 
 mother, ought I not to try to give something to others, when 
 so much has been given to me? " 
 
 " If I dared, Mayon, I would bid you God-speed, and hope 
 for some good accomplished." 
 
 " You know, mother, that even if the authorities became 
 aw^are of it and attempted to trouble me, I would only have 
 to leave for New York. I ran away once; I can again, if 
 need be. All I should fear would be the anger of Brigham 
 Young and the rest against you and father, if I should be so 
 fortunate as to make any apostates." 
 
 " You need not fear for us, Mayon, and I have half a mind 
 to bid you begin your missionary work, if you will promise 
 to be very discreet and cautious." 
 
 " Then, mother, I will go to-day and find some of the girls 
 I used to know, and try to open the way to the accomplish- 
 ing of my purpose." 
 
 So Mayon began a work which, though at first unknown, 
 unsuspected even by those she strove to influence, at last led 
 to the deliverance of a few fair young women from the lives 
 of sorrow their mothers had lived. As no opposition was 
 made, and apparently no notice taken of her quiet talks with 
 
252 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 the women, of Gentile life and religion, Avithout any reference 
 to her object of accomplishing their apostasy, she began to 
 feel confident that she would be undisturbed. 
 
 There was a Gentile by the name of Demming, who had 
 recently come into the city and opened a store. He made 
 himself acquainted with, and agreeable to Mr. Northfield, and 
 the latter invited him to his house, thinking Mayon would en- 
 joy his society, particularly as he was from New York city. 
 Demming gladly accepted the invitation, and he proved a 
 very agreeable acquaintance. He was a fine singer, and Mr. 
 Northfield and his wife enjoyed their songs and their con- 
 versation concerning the Gentile world as much as they did. 
 He became a frequent visitor, but, though Mayon could not 
 tell why, she began to tire of him, and it seemed to her that 
 there was a lack of frankness and honesty in his character. 
 His eyes would drop as they met her clear gaze, and she felt 
 that he was not quite to be trusted. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAB. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THUS matters stood, when Mayon received a most un- 
 expected visit. Her mother called her one day to meet 
 a friend in the parlor. She entered the room and beheld a 
 girl apparently about her own age, clad in a rather shabby 
 dress and bonnet. Her face was very thin and sad. Her 
 large gray eyes were sunken and her hands extremely ema- 
 ciated, and trembling violently. Mayon stood regarding her 
 for a second, trying to recollect where she had seen those 
 features before. The slender girl stretched her arms toward 
 Mayon, saying: " Mayon ! Mayon ! don't you know me? " 
 
 " Flora, can this be you ? " exclaimed Mayon. Flora would 
 have fallen to the floor, but Mayon caught her, and with her 
 strength it was an easy task to lift the light form of her 
 friend and carry her to the sofa. She had fainted, and now 
 Mrs. Northfield entered, and together they soon succeeded 
 in restoring her. Then followed exclamations of love, sur- 
 prise and joy, not unmingled with pity at Flora's feeble 
 condition. 
 
 ''Why have you never written to us, my dear? "asked 
 Mrs. Northfield. 
 
 " I could not. I was preveiited, and if I could, I had 
 noticing but misery to write. 0, Mayon ! would to God I 
 had listened to your pleading and gone back to my father. 
 I received a letter from you, Mrs. Northfield, saying Mayon 
 had seen my family, and containing messages from my 
 mother and from Jessie and the boys. I read your letter, 
 and began to read their messages when my husband entered 
 
254 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 and snatched tlie letter away from me, reading it, and then 
 tearing it in pieces before my eyes. He also destroyed a 
 letter I received a year ago from my father. That, however, 
 I had not opened, but was passionately kissing the super- 
 scription, which I knew to be my father's writing. I knew 
 that he had forgiven me, and wished to take me back, and 
 was so happ3% when suddenly it was seized from me and 
 thrown into the fire. I attempted to rescue it and in doing 
 so burned m}^ hand terribly." 
 
 " 0, Flora, my poor, dear Flora ! " 
 
 *' Now, Mayon, I found out that you w^ere here, and have 
 
 w^alked all the way from L to meet you and hear from 
 
 my mother and the rest. I am so glad you have found them. 
 Kow tell me all about them." 
 
 And Mayon told Flora all she wished to know about her 
 father, mother, sister and brothers, not omitting her talk with 
 Mr. AVinchester concerning Mormonism, which both agreed 
 was the cause of his writing to his daughter immediately 
 after. Flora seemed overjoyed at hearing from them all 
 again, and then Maj'on asked her to tell them of her life 
 since she left the city. 
 
 She sighed, and said : " There is not a great deal to tell. 
 
 "We went first to M , and there my husband left me to 
 
 hold some meetings in a town a few miles away. He at first 
 wrote to me frequentl}', but, after a time, I heard from him 
 very seldom. Finally he came home and said he was going 
 to take another wife. It seems that one of his converts, as 
 I had done, had fallen in love with him, and, as he returned 
 her sentiment, they were to be married. Mayon, thank God 
 you never can know what I sufi'ered, for you are free — free 
 as I once was ; but you, ^Irs. Northfield, know^ something 
 about it, though you do not knovv^ wdiat it is to sufier from 
 the cruelty of a husband as I did. All his love seemed gone 
 from me, and at sight of mj^ tears he would become very 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 255 
 
 angry and say the most cruel things. When I begged him 
 to be kind to me and love me again, he turned from me 
 rudely and told me not to be silly. I then thought and 
 spoke of leaving him and going to my mother, and asking 
 her to take me in and let me die with her, for I did not think 
 I should live long, my health was so poor. Then he raved 
 at me again, and told me that there had been one Mormon 
 runaway girl, and bade me not to dare try to follow my 
 friend's example, for he would surely thwart my plans, and 
 I knew he would. Soon after that my father's letter came, 
 and probably no one but he knew what its contents were. 
 My husband threatened me if I attempted to write to my 
 friends, and said he should take means to prevent any letters 
 from passing through the mails. I think he was afraid to 
 have me leave and go where I might expose his cruelty. 
 
 AVe soon moved from M to A , and then he brought 
 
 his wife there. How I hated them both, and I think they 
 hated me too! It seemed to me tha^ I should go insane. 
 My bab}' was born soon after that." 
 
 " Your baby. Flora ! have you a baby ? " 
 
 " No, not now. She is dead," and Flora could not go on 
 for the tears choked lier so. " In a few months my husband 
 went away preaching again, and he took his new wife with 
 him. I was glad of this, and now I had my little Jessie to 
 love, and to love me ; but my husband left me but a little 
 money, promising to send me some when I needed it. He 
 did not send it, however, and baby and I suffered from 
 hunger and cold. Then Jessie fell sick with fever, and 
 tliough I wrote to her father for help, yet without the assist- 
 ance of my neighbors, who learned how I was situated, I fear 
 we should have starved. But tliough Jessie did not actually 
 starve to death, she was killed by the want and cold her 
 father's neglect caused us. I could not weep or mourn 
 when my darling baby lay cold and stiff in my arms. I 
 
256 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 felt that God had mercifully taken her away from her suf- 
 fering. The day after she died the undertaker came with a 
 beautiful casket and a quantity of the loveliest flowers. I 
 thought there had been some mistake, but the man was 
 positive that this was the place to which a gentleman had 
 ordered him to bring them. I tried to learn who my bene- 
 factor was, but could learn nothing. After my child was 
 buried I was sick, and a strange woman came and nursed 
 me well, and a physician attended me faithfully. I tried to 
 find who had employed them, but they would only tell me 
 some one who knew of my need had provided for me. At 
 last I became able to be about my house again, and as my 
 physician made his last call upon me he put some money 
 into my hands, saying it was from my unknown friend, and 
 he hoped it would supply all my wants till my husband re- 
 turned. I can only wonder who my friend was, but God 
 knows, and He will reward him. I could worship him if I 
 could find him. My husband and his Avife came soon after 
 that, and he seemed*surprised and sorry, I think, to find our 
 baby was dead, and he was not quite so unkind to me. A 
 
 few weeks ago we moved to L , only four miles from here, 
 
 and it was from listening, a few days ago, to a conversation 
 between him and some elder from the city, who had come 
 out to see him, that I learned you were here. And I came, 
 not only to hear from my friends, but to tell you, Mayon, of 
 the plot that is working, as they think to their satisfaction, 
 to keep you in Mormonism." 
 
 Mayon gave a frightened start, but Flora said : 
 
 " Never fear, however ; I have found it out in time to save 
 you." 
 
 "What do you mean. Flora? "said Mrs. Northficld, ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 " First, Mayon," said Flora, "tell me truly, are you going 
 to marry Mr. Demming?'* 
 
-~ SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 257 
 
 "Marry Mr. Dcmming! No, never!" 
 
 " 1 am so glad of that, for he is not a Gentile, as he repre- 
 sents himself to be. He became a Mormon a few 3'ears ago, 
 and is now acting the part of an impostor to you. The 
 elders are seeking to ruin you by bringing about a mar- 
 riage with this man, and when your fate becomes irrevoc- 
 ably fixed, he is to throw off his Gentile cloak and you are 
 to find yourself the wife of a Mormon. 0, Mayon, it is too 
 horrible to be true, yet it is true. And I heard them con- 
 gratulating themselves that you had fallen into their net; 
 was delighted with the young Gentile merchant, and there 
 was no doubt that you would marry him soon. I learned 
 that even his store was stocked by the church funds to give 
 him influence with you and your parents. It was a scheme 
 of their own, from the writing of the anon3mious letter to this 
 day, and they thought it was working admirably. They 
 said, ' Even Northfield himself docs not suspect the trick, 
 and soon our fair apostate will be withdrawn from the Gen- 
 tile world for life.' how my blood ran cold as I heard 
 their diabolical plans and feared you had fallen into their 
 snare and given your heart to this man ! " 
 
 " Thank God she did not," said Mrs. Northfield. " We 
 have regarded young Demming as a very pleasant acquaint- 
 ance, however, particularly as he was a Gentile, but they are 
 mistaken in supposing there is any entanglement with 
 Mayon." 
 
 " Then the plot would have fiiiled at last, but I feared it 
 would not." 
 
 " Darling Flora, how I thank 3^ou ! Had it been as you 
 feared, you would have saved me from a fate worse than 
 death." 
 
 ''Yes, much worse than death," answered Flora; "you 
 think so, I know so." 
 
 "And, Flora, if you will consent, you shall be saved from 
 17 
 
258 KINDER northfield's home ; OR, 
 
 it, too. When I go East again, you must go with me ; and 
 0, how happy your father's wliolc family would be ! " 
 
 "No, Mayon, it will not make them happy to have me 
 come back such as I am now, and I could not bear to go. 
 Thoughts of my wasted, ruined life would torment me more 
 there than here. I do not think I shall live ver}^ long, and 
 I had rather remain here the little while I do live, and be 
 buried by the side of my little Jessie. I think my return 
 home would give rise to such sadness there that they would 
 never be the same again. I have made them wretched 
 enough, and do not deserve to be taken to their home in my 
 last few miserable days. I will patiently remain here now 
 till death comes, and then I shall find rest. I think God 
 will forgive my errors, and mercifully give me peace and 
 perha})s happiness at last." 
 
 No effort of Mayon or her mother could persuade Flora 
 to abandon her purpose, and so at last they talked of other 
 things, principally of affairs at the East. Toward night they 
 procured a carriage and drove Flora to her home, or as near 
 there as she dared have them seen, for she did not wish her 
 husband to learn where she had been. 
 
 And this was the wreck of that once happy, lovely girl ! 
 This was one of Mormonism's victims, and still that curse is 
 allowed to blight our country, and the young, the fair, the 
 innocent are sacrificed to its superstitious ordinances. 
 
 Mr. Northfield regretted that he had not been at home to 
 meet Flora, for he was much attached to her, and very in- 
 dignant when he learned that Elder Burnside had proved to 
 be so inhuman. That knowledge, however, was one more 
 addition to the tide of influences which were carrying him 
 slowly but surely towards a renunciation of his life-long 
 faith. Still more was he influenced and angered by the dis- 
 covery of the base deception that had been practiced upon* 
 him and his daughter. He had tried in vain to ascertain 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 259 
 
 the source of the letter to Mayon,biit at last the mystery was 
 solved. But a life-long faith — a faith which had become a 
 part of himself — was not to be easily uprooted. A gigantic 
 tree may become unsound ; it may be shaken to its roots ; 
 it may sway and totter in the wind ; but it takes a mighty 
 power to uproot it entirely. So a faith established and 
 strengthened with the growth of many years — almost a life- 
 time of years — was not to totter and fall at inferior attacks. 
 The attitude of the Northfield family towards young Dem- 
 ming was materially changed now, and though they judged 
 it best not to make their discovery known, both for Mayon's 
 safety and for Flora's, yet when Demming again called he 
 met with a cool reception, and soon his visits ceased. Mr. 
 Northfield feared that if the Mormons knew of the failure 
 and discovery of their scheme, they would attenipt some 
 other form of intrigue, and Mayon, for safety, would be 
 obliged to shorten her stay there. He also feared that by 
 some means Flora would become implicated, and that the 
 result would be fresh trouble for her. It soon became evi- 
 dent, how^ever, to the conspirators and the principal actor in 
 the plot — who had become very much interested personally 
 by this time — that their scheme w^as a failure, and they were 
 very much enraged. 
 
 Mayon's missionary work had progressed and increased, 
 and now bid fair to bear fruit, for she had persuaded several 
 women, mostly young, to contemplate privately leaving the 
 Alormons, in her company. They w^ere necessarily from the 
 few families where money for travelling expenses could be 
 obtained by stealth or the sale of valuables. They trusted 
 that they should be able to find employment in the Gentile 
 world, and Mayon hoped that her uncle in New York would 
 be able to assist them in that direction. The authorities of 
 the Church, of course, were not aware of the extent of Mayon's 
 influence over some of their women, but they were not so 
 
260 ELDER ^'0RTIIFIELD'S HOME ; OR, 
 
 ignorant and unmindful of her doings as she supposed. She 
 would not have been allowed to continue her visits and t.ilks 
 against I>Iornionism and in favor of Gentilism, had it not 
 been for the security they felt that her days of liberty would 
 be few. '• Let her work," they said, "she can do no harm, 
 for she is surely failing into the net we have prepared for 
 her, and will soon find herself a devoted Mormon woman by 
 virtue of necessity, instead of the Gentile seducer of our 
 women that she now is." Elder Northfield was deceived as 
 well as his daughter, for he was known to be quite in sym- 
 pathy with her now, and they were fearing he would apos- 
 tatize. Forest, they felt, was their stronghold in that family, 
 for he was still as devoted as ever in proclaiming his faith 
 about the Territory, but he was ignorant of what was trans- 
 piring at his home. After it was known that Demming had 
 failed to accomplish his purpose, Mayon's enemies no longer 
 looked with unconcern and leniency upon her missionary 
 labors. A stir was now made, and one of the apostles went 
 to many houses where Mayon had been known to visit, and 
 commanded the women not to allow her to enter their homes 
 again. Then one of the women whom Mayon had persuaded 
 to renounce Mormonism was seized with a panic of fear; 
 and, conscience-stricken, because of her infidelity to her re- 
 ligion, she exposed the scheme, and thus all were thwarted 
 in their plans to escape, though several were permanently 
 converted to Gentilism, and in after years apostatized. 
 
 Brigham Young himself visited j\Ir. Korthfield at his place 
 of business and angrily accused him of apostacy, saying, 
 "If you do not keep your daughter at home, I will not be 
 answ^'erablc for her safety. All good Mormons are rightly 
 very indignant at her attempt to make our women turn 
 traitor to their friends and their religion, as she has done. 
 The public feeling is that no punishment could be too great 
 for her. It is enough that she apostatizes herself, but as,to 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 261 
 
 goincc HIT 3^ farther, North field, I warn 3^011 to put a stop to it. 
 IJ yon do not put a stop to it, some one else 'will.^'' 
 
 Alter this warning there seemed but one course to be pur- 
 sued, and Mrs. Northfield said to Ma3'on: 
 
 " Mayon. 3^our father and I agree that the sooner 3'ou leave 
 us for New York the better, as we consider it unsafe for 3^ou 
 to remain here, the hatred of the Mormons is so intense." 
 
 " But, mother, you do not fear that any personal harm 
 will come to me, if I now remain quietly at home, do 
 you?" 
 
 ''^ly child, a religion that would excite men to the deeds 
 committed by the Mormons, is not to be trusted; and if 
 lives were once openly taken in a religious zeal against the 
 Gentiles, what would they not do now, if they dared? I 
 have never told you of the ' Death Society,' 'Avenging 
 Angels,' or ' Band of Danites,' as they were called, which the 
 old Mormon women have told me used to exist here in full 
 force, and even now exists in secret, but the Mormons dare 
 not now be so bold in their persecution of the Gentiles." 
 
 " Tell me about them now, mother ! " and Mayon's e3'es 
 dilated with horror. 
 
 Her mother related what she knew of the horrors of the 
 past, when a band of men — tried, true and trusty Mor- 
 mons — was formed for the purpose of exterminating apos- 
 tates or Gentiles who were found to be o])posing God's 
 Church. To apostatize then, during that reign of terror, 
 was to have the throat cut from ear to ear, or to suffer some 
 other ignominious death, for God's chosen people were to cut 
 Oil any who opposed his cause. They were led b3^ the hand 
 of God in inspiration, and though murder in the Church 
 was a terrible crime, yet the killing of the Gentile was no 
 murder. Tlie whole earth, with its cattle upon the thousand 
 hills, was the Lord's, and therefore belonged to his people, 
 and they hesitated not in appropriating their property, even 
 
262 FLDtR northfield's home ; OR, 
 
 though the wicked Gentiles claimed it as their own. Polyg- 
 amy was established, and a massive temple built in what 
 were then their lieadquartcrs, farther east, and the reviv- 
 ing of the old Jewish sacrifices was even contemplated. 
 Thus she showed INIayon that the most terrible crimes of all 
 descriptions had been the dark results of Mormonism's 
 teachings. 
 
 Mayon was now almost trembling with terror, and she 
 agreed with her mother that it was best for her to depart 
 immediately. 
 
 '' But, mother," she said, '' isn't it a pity that that woman 
 should prove a traitor and expose us all? Now none of 
 them can escape at present, and perhaps never. O, mother, 
 you cannot tell how disappointed I am that my efforts, which 
 seemed so successful and gave me so much pleasure, have 
 proven a complete failure! I did so long that they, and 
 particularly Annie Huchins and Josie Parks, might get away 
 from here, for they are both very unhap])y. And, mother, I 
 must leave you so soon ! But it will not be so hard as our 
 other parting was, for then I thought I should never see you 
 again. Now I think you will come to me, and perhaps be- 
 fore many years. 0, how we should thank God that light 
 is slowly, but surely, creeping into father's mind ! I never 
 loved my father as I do now, and I believe he will miss me 
 very mucli." 
 
 While Mrs. Northfield was necessarily absent from her 
 home a few moments that evening, and before Mr. Northfield 
 had returned, Mayon sat thinking of Annie and Josie, in 
 whose welfare she was especially interested. They were both 
 very dissatisfied with Mormonism, and being naturally re- 
 fined and intelligent girls, though not educated, they longed 
 to escape into the Gentile world. Annie was persecuted, as 
 Mayon had been, on the matrimonial questioUj and Josie, 
 whose own mother was dead, was treated very cruelly by 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 263 
 
 her fiither's wives. Mayon had influenced them to determine 
 to escape with her, and now, that she knew how disai> 
 pointed they must be, slie longed to comfort them, and give 
 them her address and urge them to write to her, if ever she 
 could be of service to them in any subsequent attempt they 
 miglit make to escape. So she resolved, in spite of her fears, 
 to disguise herself by wearing her mother's cloak and a thick 
 veil, and visit them once more before she left the city. A 
 few moments later Mrs. Northfield returned, and was a little 
 disappointed to find Mayon was not at home. She sup- 
 posed, however, that she had gone to a neighbor's house, 
 and would soon return. But as time passed she became un- 
 easy, and, by the time Mr. Northfield entered the house, was 
 quite alarmed. Without stopping for supper he immedi- 
 ately set out to find Mayon, saying: 
 
 " She was very imprudent to go out in the evening unat- 
 tended. Why did you allow her to do so?" 
 
 " I did not allow her. She went without my knowledge, 
 and during my absence from the house. 0, 1 hope no harm 
 will come to her." 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, Marion ; I will bring her back with 
 me, if I have to search the city over for her." 
 
 But before he returned Mrs. Northfield was in the greatest 
 suspense, and her fears were doubled. After an hour, how- 
 ever, she heard steps approaching, but they were irregular 
 and slow. She hastened to open the door, and, sure enough, 
 Mr. Northfield had brought Mayon back with him, and al- 
 most literally carried her, for she was scarcely able to walk. 
 She looked frightened and very pale, and her mother ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " 0, Mayon, what has happened ? Henry, what does it 
 all mean ? " 
 
 '' I do not know myself," said he ; " but get something to 
 revive and stimulate her, and we will try to learn what is 
 the matter." 
 
264 ELDER NOrvTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 Vriiile Mrs. Xorthfield proceeded to obey his directions, 
 her husband removed Mnyon's cloak, and saw that her dress- 
 sleeve was stained with blood. He could hardly suppress a 
 cry of horror, but was relieved to find that her arm was only 
 slightly grazed, apparently by a pistol ball. Her forehead, 
 too, was badly bruised and swollen. She was soon recovered 
 from her half-fainting condition, and her father said : 
 
 *' Now, Marion, I will tell yoa all I know of this affair, and 
 I liope Mayon is now able to tell the rest. I searched fur 
 her among the neighbors, and then it occurred to me that 
 she might have been so rash as to have attempted to see 
 some of her converts again, and I had not proceeded far in 
 the direction I thought she would take, when I met a woman 
 almost staggering along on the sidewalk. Soniething about 
 her seemed familiar to me, and I stopped and watclied her 
 after we-had met and she had passed on. I turned and fol- 
 lowed her, and she seemed terribly afraid of me; and when 
 at last I spoke to her, she screamed, but was soon calm when 
 she realized who it was that was pursuing. Her thick veil 
 blinded her so that she could not recognize me in the dark- 
 ness. I brought her home as fast as I could, and checked 
 all her attempts to speak, for she had scarcely strength to 
 walk. Now, ]\rayon, can you tell me how you came to be in 
 this condition ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mayon ; " I went to see Josie and Annie once 
 more. I did not feel afraid to do so with the disguise I 
 adopted, and as I was hurrying home, going on Elm street, 
 which you know is an unfrequented one, I ran against a 
 rope, stretched across the street, about a foot from the ground. 
 I fell, and immediately heard a laughing, hooting and rough 
 talking at my expense, behind the fence, only a few feet 
 from me. I rose and found my head was badly hurt, but I 
 commenced to run. I had not proceeded far, however, when 
 I saw a flash of light, heard a pistol report, and felt my arm 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 265 
 
 linding with pain ; but I continued to Imrry on as best I 
 could, expecting to be killed if I could not reach home soon. 
 I heard the ruffians swearing, as if in great rage, but I 
 hastened on, as well as I could, with weakness from pain 
 and fright, and when fatlier spoke to me I was so excited 
 that I did not recognize his voice at first, and thought the 
 men had pursued me. I never was so thankful, I think, as 
 I was when I realized that it was he. Now you have the 
 whole stor}^, and what does it mean? " 
 
 " It means, my dear," said her father, "that the Mormons, 
 as a body, are enraged and excited because you have stirred 
 up rebellion among the women, and a few of the villanous 
 men, who are everywhere to be found, have allowed their 
 passions to excite them to an attack upon you. I shudder 
 to think what might have occurred, but if those criminals 
 can be found, they shall be brought to justice." 
 
 "But Mayon is not safe a day longer here," said her 
 mother. 
 
 " No," replied her ilither, " and if these Avounds prove to 
 be no more serious in the morning than I hope, she had 
 best leave on the early train. I will go with you, Mayon, as 
 far as Cheyenne, for your protection." 
 
 But before morning Mr. Northfield was visited with a se- 
 vere attack of a disease from which he often suffered, and he 
 was unable to leave his bed. He thought best, however, for 
 Mayon to proceed as she had intended, thougli she must 
 journey alone. He did not believe the respectable Mor- 
 mons would v.'ish any violence done her, and thought the 
 attack on the previous night was an outburst of the indigna- 
 tion of ruffians, or the resentment of those who might feel 
 personally injured by her. He thought Annie Huchins' 
 lover, who was a man of rather low character, might be among 
 the latter class. That any attempt whatever would be made 
 in daylight, or by the body of Mormons at any time, to do 
 
266 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 personal violence to his daughter, he did not think pos- 
 sible. So with regret, rather than fear, he bade lier good- 
 bye, and she left them again. Again she was fleeing from 
 her persecutors, but not as before from her father, as the 
 greatest of them. Her parting with her mother was cheered 
 by a whispered hoi)e of meeting again, and that in the Gen- 
 tile world. 
 
 Before the train had borne Ma3"on out of the Territory, she 
 felt that she was watched by two men, who entered the same 
 car in wdiich she seated herself at Salt Lake City. She 
 changed cars twice on the train, and was much annoyed to 
 find that they soon followed her in her changes. At last 
 she resolved to stop over a train at one of the prominent 
 stations, hoping thus to rid herself- of her disagreeable trav- 
 elling companions. She did so, and was really alarmed to 
 find that the two men had also stopped, and again, as she 
 resumed her journey, were seated near her. She was now 
 quite nervous and frightened, but tried to calm her fears, and 
 attribute them to her fright of the previous night. The men 
 ■were strangers to her, and she did not like their looks. They 
 were also quite profane, and indulged freely in oaths and 
 tobacco. At last, after two days of weary travelling, tor- 
 mented by fear, while waiting in a depot in one of the large 
 towns on the route, these men came to her, and one of them 
 said : 
 
 " Miss, I am authorized to arrest you, and you will oblige 
 us by offering no resistance, for it will be entirely useless, 
 and only make a scene, which you can just as well avoid. 
 You will go with us quietly to the police station, and after 
 trial, if you are proved not guilty, you can continue on your 
 journey." 
 
 " You must not arrest me. You are making some mis- 
 take. I have violated no law, and cannot be held for trial." 
 
 But the}^ were already putting handcuffs on her wrists. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 267 
 
 Then she burst into a violent fit of anger and excitement, 
 attracted the attention of the people about her, declaring 
 her innocence and that these men were committing an out- 
 rage upon her, and then said, turning to some gentlemen 
 who were looking at her with half-pitying, half-curious faces: 
 " Gentlemen, I am an escaped Mormon girl. I have been 
 in New York two years, and was decoyed back again to Salt 
 Lake City by Mormons, who hoped by a plot of theirs to 
 keep me there. Their plot failed, and their anger on that 
 account, and because of my influence among the women 
 against Mormonism, nearly resulted in my death the night 
 before I left. These men boarded the train at Salt Lake City 
 at the time I did, and they have followed and shadowed me 
 all the way, and now pretend to arrest me for trial. I appeal 
 to you, gentlemen, for help." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said one of the men who had hand-cuffed 
 Mayon, " I shall be obliged, I see, to tell my version of the 
 story, though for her sake I wished to be quiet about it. 
 This unfortunate young lady is insane, and on one point 
 principally : she imagines what she has been telling you is 
 true, and has told every one the same story for two years. 
 She never was in Salt Lake City or New York city, and 
 knows no more of Mormon life than what she has learned 
 
 from books. She is the daughter of a merchant in B , 
 
 and escaped recently from the insane asylum back here a 
 few miles at N . The wound on her head was occa- 
 sioned by her beating it against the walls of her room. We 
 are officers, and it is our disagreeable duty to take her back 
 to the asylum." 
 
 Mayon's plea had enlisted the sympathy of the people 
 standing about and excited their indignation, till the 
 gentlemen were ready to interfere for her protection. But 
 this explanation of affairs was believed, apparently, as 
 Mayon beheld with horror. She became terribly excited 
 
268 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 now and tried to convince her audience that she was telling 
 the trutli, and tliat she was sane. But her words had a 
 contrary eJGfect, and her eyes gleamed, as the people thou;:ht, 
 •with insanity, and indeed they were wild with terror. Her 
 frenzy at tlie treatment she received was easily mistaken for 
 insanity, and the ladies turned away, saying: "Poor creature, 
 I liope she will recover. Slie is so beautiful and naturally 
 intelligent!" and the gentlemen remarking: "Well, there's 
 no doubt she is insane, judging from her appearance. I 
 pity her, though." 
 
 Mayon saw how useless all appeals for assistance were, 
 and submitted in despair to being jjlaced in a carriage and 
 driven mile after mile over roads, which she attempted to 
 recollect in case she succeeded in escaping and wished to 
 go over the road again. It was dark when they stopped be- 
 fore a large brick building, and Mayon was lifted from the 
 carriage. Again she became desperate and tried to spring 
 back into the carriage, hoping to be able to start the horses 
 before her captors could prevent and thus escape. But she 
 was rudely caught by the arm, and her wound hurt so badly 
 that she screamed. She was forced inside the building, and 
 really had the appearance at the time of being a raving 
 maniac. She heard such expressions as the following from 
 the attendants and other patients : " Poor thing ! " " How very 
 crazy she is ! " " What a beautiful girl to be brought here ! " 
 "We shall have to resort to discipline, I fear, with her." 
 AVhen Mayon was at last locked in her room alone she 
 realized that in her agony she had acted in perfect accord- 
 ance with her captors' wishes, and had corrohorated their 
 statements of her insanity by acting like an insane person. 
 She resolved now to be very calm and to convince the at- 
 tendants by her manner that she was sane, and tell them 
 her whole story. But the villains were i)reparcd for that, 
 and had instructed the officers of the peculiar phase of her 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 269 
 
 insanit}^, and the}' in turn had informed the attendants, so 
 •when she told the kind lad}^ in charge her story, she said : 
 "Well, my dear, if that is so, we will make it all right in a 
 few days," and Mayon knew that she was not believed. She 
 then laid her case before the superintendent, asking him to 
 write to her father's address in Salt Lake City for proof of 
 her statements. He promised to do so to quiet her, and 
 Mayon believed he would, but he did not. This was only 
 one case among hundreds, Avhere patients had friends in 
 certain places, and he believed or acted upon the belief that 
 her father was just as visionary a person as these friends 
 usually were. 
 
 Thus two days passed, the longest, most wretched days 
 of Mayon's life, but she hoped for release as soon as the 
 superintendent could write to her father and hear from him. 
 He would come to her she knew, if able, and perhaps in case 
 of his inability to come her mother would fiy to her relief. 
 No one else in Salt Lake City could be trusted to come. 0" 
 what would her father's and mother's feelings be when they 
 learned that her enemies had placed her in a lunatic asylum ! 
 At the close of the second day of her imprisonment the at- 
 tendant turned the keys of her door and admitted a visitor, 
 and Mayon recognized one of the gentlemen who listened to 
 her plea for help at the time of her capture. The sight of 
 his kind, intelligent face inspired her with hope. Said he : 
 
 " My young friend, I have come all the way from 
 
 for the purpose of learning whether the story you told there 
 is true, and, if so, to assist you if j^ossible to escape. Al- 
 though your appearance that day warranted the belief that 
 you were insane, yet I half believed your story, and could 
 not get yoar distressed look from my mind. Your face 
 haunted me all night long in my dreams and in my waking 
 hours, and I became more and more convinced that there 
 was some foul play about the affair^ especially as the more 
 
270 
 
 I thought of it I did not like the appearance of the men who 
 claimed to be officers. I told my wife about you, my fears, 
 and half determination to look into the matter, and she would 
 not rest till I set out for this place. When I inquired of the 
 officers here about the escaped lunatic that had just been 
 returned, they did not know to whom I referred. Then I 
 discovered through them that you had never been here be- 
 fore, and that strengthened my belief in the rascality of those 
 men. Now tell me anything that may lead to a further 
 solution of this matter, and what you wish me to do to help 
 you out of this place." 
 
 Then Mayon told him all, and he was perfectly convinced 
 of her sanity, and went to the superintendent and demanded 
 that she should be released. The superintendent blandly 
 replied that that was impossible. If he released every patient 
 who succeeded in procuring a friend to demand his or her 
 release, every maniac in the institution might soon be at 
 large and the country be endangered by their libert}^ He 
 could not release a patient without the most positive proof 
 that he was right in so doing. Why should he take the 
 word of one man against two others, and the appearance of 
 the girl besides? "for," said he, "the girl was certainly one 
 of the most raving of msane persons I ever saw when brought 
 here." 
 
 " So she was when I saw her captured," said Mayon 's new 
 friend, "and wdiat innocent, right-minded girl would not 
 have been under the circumstances? Would you, sir, if 
 attacked by rough-looking men, hand-cuffed, and told you 
 .were insane, and were to be taken to an insane asyhun — 
 w^ould you quietly and calmly submit, or would you make 
 resistance and struggle for freedom? Would you be un- 
 moved and calm under such circumstances, or would your 
 blood boil, your anger rise, and, in your indignation, would 
 you not give vent to your excitement, and would not your 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 271 
 
 eyes gleam with something which might be taken for in- 
 sanity ? If you as a man were thus treated, what would be 
 ymir sensations ? But still farther : imagine yourself a young, 
 unprotected female, with no power to resist, and obliged to 
 submit — would such a person be likely to be very calm, think 
 you ? Why, man, it was enough to make the girl insane, 
 and take care, sir, that you do not do it." 
 
 " No doubt your arguments appear very deep to 3"0U, sir, 
 but fortunately I am more familiar with insane people than 
 you are, and shall take the liberty to judge for myself as to 
 this case, and nothing but the most positive proof that this 
 girl's story is true will ensure her release. Procure me that 
 proof, sir, and I wdll release her. Not till then." 
 
 The gentleman Avent to Mayon and told her how matters 
 stood, and that she would be obliged to remain a few days, 
 till he could correspond with her friends both in Salt Lake 
 City and New York. Meantime he would go to his home 
 and at the earliest possible hour return with proof to insure 
 her freedom. Ma^'on gave him the address of her father and 
 also her uncle, and it was not without a flood of tears that 
 she parted with him, for she feared some further plot at the 
 hands of her enemies before he should be able to secure her 
 release. Therefore with his departure much of her hopeful- 
 ness departed also. She looked upon him as her protector 
 and saviour, and her gratitude towards him knew no bounds. 
 A few weary days of life in a lunatic asylum passed, and 
 Mayon began to think siie was to thoroughly know Gentile 
 institutions of every nature. The scenes in that insane 
 asylum were among those most vividly impressed upon her 
 mind in after years. She felt that the misery there and the 
 frightful sights and sounds of the maniacs would drive her 
 crazy if she must endure it long ; but her friend did not de- 
 sert her ; her enemies did not give her further trouble ; and 
 at last as evidence, of a quantity and quality beyond a doubt, 
 
272 
 
 of her sanity and truthfulness were produced, the bland 
 superintendent gave orders that ^layon Northfield he re- 
 leased, and with her friend she once more breathed the itee 
 air of heaven, and her heart was filled with joy as she realized 
 that again she had escaped from Mormonism's toils. She, 
 however, felt that she should not be free from fear till safe 
 in her aunt's home at New York. She expressed this 
 thought, and her friend said : 
 
 "I shall accompany you to New York, and see you safe 
 under Walter Bernard's roof before I leave. I have corre- 
 sponded with him, and also with your father. Here is a letter 
 from the latter." 
 
 Mayon read it. It was in answer to one written by him, 
 and it expressed grief at Mayon's affliction, gratitude for 
 her deliverance, and regrets that he could not come himself 
 to her relief. "I am sick," wrote he: "hardly able to pen 
 these words. Tell my daughter that I have had a very severe 
 attack, but am now improving. I have no one I can send to 
 her relief, for I am a Mormon, and have scarcely a Gentile 
 friend in the world, and a Mormon I cannot trust. If you 
 will allow me to become still more indebted to you, and will 
 yourself accompany Mayon to New York, and place her 
 under her uncle's protection, I will gladly defray every 
 pecuniary expense it may occasion you ; or if that is out of 
 the question, will you send some one whom you know you 
 can trust to act as her escort? Either way, I will enclose a 
 check which will go far towards expenses, if not sufficient. 
 Sick, and friendless in the Gentile world at least, I appeal 
 to your noble heart to continue the care over my daughter, 
 which I am unable to give her, and, if money can reward 
 you, you shall have that; if not, God will reward you for 
 nobly helping your fellow-beings in distress." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 273 
 
 CHAPTER XYL 
 
 AT D Seminary one room, at least, was in the most 
 perfect order. Bouquets, in spite of the season, orna- 
 mented its little table, and filled it with sweetness. Jessie, 
 with eager, expectant look, was attired in one of her most 
 attractive costumes, and her slender hands and feet could 
 not be made to keep quiet, as she excitedly rocked to and 
 fro in her chair, looking involuntarily from her window 
 down the long, wide carriage way leading to the building. 
 For Mayon was coming back to school to-day, and was to 
 share Jessie's room, now that Lillian was gone, and Jessie 
 wi\s prepared to give her the heartiest welcome ever given by 
 one school-girl to another. At last her eyes were rewarded 
 for their diligence by the sight of a carriage coming up the 
 avenue; and, flying down to the door, she received Mayon 
 with open arms. After leading her to what was henceforth 
 to be their room, Jessie exclaimed : 
 
 " Little did I think, Mayon, that when you left us all at 
 home, it would be weeks, instead of days, before I saw you 
 again. What a terrible thing that conspiracy w^as ! and O, 
 Mayon, you can't tell how I hate and fear the Mormons, since 
 we received your letter telling us about Flora. That poor, 
 'poor girl ! Perhaps she will listen to reason now, and come 
 back to us. Has she received the letter we wrote her?" 
 
 " I do not know that she has received any letter from you 
 of late; but I should not know if she had." 
 
 " But it was directed to your mother, with the request that 
 she would forward it privately to Flora, and that thus her 
 18 
 
274 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 brutal liusband would not destro}" it. It should have reached 
 your mother, I think, before you came away." 
 
 " But, Jessie, I have been a great while on the way. I 
 stopped a week on the route." 
 
 " Where, and wh}^ did you stop? " 
 
 "I will tell you soon; but first please tell me who wrote 
 the letter you speak of — did your father have a part in it? " 
 
 " Yes, and that is what I was going to tell you of. It 
 makes such a change now in our home. Your letter com- 
 pletely broke down father's sternness, and actually the tears 
 rolled down his cheeks, as he read of poor Flora's suffering 
 and determination to remain away; and mother put her 
 arms around his neck, and of course she cried and we all 
 cried, from father down to Leonard, who walked up and 
 down the room, trying to wipe away the tears unobserved 
 by us, and interrupting father continually by saying, 'I wish 
 I could kill ever}^ Mormon ! How I would like to set up 
 Burnside for a target to shoot at! Father, let me go to Utah 
 and get Flora. I'll bring her, if I have to shoot every man 
 there!' and other similar expressions. The ice was now 
 broken between father and the rest of us, as it seems it was 
 already between him and Flora, and we wrote a genuine 
 family letter, father beginning it, and so on till Leonard fin- 
 ished it up with bad writing and blots, and the fiercest 
 epithets against the Mormons. We hoped that letter would 
 reach Flora, for father assured her that, if she would only 
 come back to us and forgive all his j^ast unkindnesses, she 
 should be received with warm hearts and loving hands, and 
 she would make us once more a happy famil}-, as we were 
 wlien she was with us. I do hope she will come now; but, 
 May on, tell about your stopping on the way. Where did 
 you stop ? " 
 
 *' I stop})ed at an insane asylum." 
 
 "An insane asylum ! " 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 275 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Why did you stop at an insane 
 asylum and sta}" a week?" 
 
 " Because, Jessie, my Mormon enemies saw fit to place me 
 there, and had it not been for a friend, that I shall always 
 believe God raised up for me, I might have been there now 
 — yes, I might have spent my life there, for aught I know. 
 Mormon animosity would have been equal to that, I do 
 believe." 
 
 Tiicn INIayon related the whole of her history, that had 
 transpired since she had written to Jessie. Though it re- 
 quired hours for the accomplishment of all that must be 
 told on both sides, at last they were able to fix their atten- 
 tion upon the present, and studies, teachers and school 
 matters in general were discussed. Maj^on had been able to 
 pursue some of her studies while at her mother's, but Avas, 
 in many respects, of course, behind her class. She now re- 
 solved, if permitted, to continue with her class, and b}^ extra 
 Btudy make up for what was lost. This, by hard work, she 
 succeeded in doing. IMeanwhile Flora had received the let- 
 ter from her parents, brothers and sisters, and answered it, 
 sending her letter tlirough the same medium, throu,2;h whom 
 their letter came to her. She expressed much love and 
 gratitude for them all, but firmly and gently declined to 
 return to her home, as she had declined to yield to Mayon's 
 plea. 
 
 Mr. Northfield recovered from his sickness after many 
 days, and then set about the task of bringing about the 
 arrest of Mayon's assailants and her captors. He went to 
 the officers of the city, but found there w^as little ambition 
 towards the enforcement of the law; and though they prom- 
 ised to try to find and arrest the criminals, and apparently 
 made some effort iu that direction, yet it was evident even 
 to Mr. Northfield that there was little heart in their efforts. 
 
276 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 No one was arrested, and after a while all effort in that di- 
 rection ceased. But all this was another strong cause of Mr. 
 Kcrthfield's increasing dissatisfaction with Mormonism. But 
 yet his business was here, his home was here, his life-long 
 associations were here. 
 
 Forest now came home, expecting to find Mayon, and say- 
 ing he came home for the purpose of meeting her. He was 
 quite disappointed at finding she had gone, and was ignorant 
 of all she had suffered, and also of the cause. He was in- 
 clined to look upon her missionary labors as a great outrage 
 against the Church, and felt that the blame of her subsequent 
 troubles should fall largely upon her own head. Forest was 
 a model Mormon, as his father had labored to make him. 
 Now, however, at listening to his views of Mayon 's experi- 
 ence, he did not feel so well satisfied with the success he had 
 achieved, in rearing his son in his own religion. 
 
 Towards the close of Mayon's last year of school-life, one 
 of her classmates, named Mary Carson, was taken suddenly 
 and seriously ill. She was a girl whom no one liked, on ac- 
 count of her churlish disposition, and consequently no one 
 was ready to sacrifice for her what might have been sacri- 
 ficed for a more worthy schoolmate. Mayon learned of her 
 illness, and immediately went to her room, and, as Jessie 
 was at home on that day, she remained with Mary almost 
 constantly for twenty-four hours. The school authorities 
 procured the sick girl a nurse as soon as possible, but at first, 
 exce})t for Mayon, she would have been much alone. Mayon 
 read to her, bathed her burning brow, and, kindly ignoring 
 her irritability and fault-finding, ministered to her comfort 
 in every way she could. After a day or two the physician 
 decided that the disease was a case of a very malignant fever, 
 and that no person but tlie nurse should enter the room for 
 fear of contagion. At this announcement a panic ensued, 
 and the nurse immediately left the premises, the pupils 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 277 
 
 prepared to leave the school, and some even did so on the 
 spur of the excitement. For the welfare and also the safety 
 of the school, it was decided that the patient should be re- 
 moved to a house in a retired part of the town. But who 
 could be obtained to go with her and nurse her? So great 
 was the fear of this disease that it began to appear that the 
 poor girl would be left without care. Mayon saw how mat- 
 ters stood, and with a serious but determined face she said 
 to Jessie : 
 
 " Jessie, I will tell you who will take care of Mary Carson. 
 I will." 
 
 " You ! 0, no ! Mayon. Remember the danger. Don't 
 
 go." 
 
 "Jessie," said Mayon, rather sternly, "put yourself in that 
 girl's place. Imagine you are many hundred miles from 
 home, as she is, very sick and with no one to care for you — 
 and can you say one word to deter me from going with 
 her?" 
 
 "Mayon, you are right, and I will go, too, and help you 
 take care of this poor girl. If anything dreadful comes, we 
 shall have the satisfaction of knowing we have done right." 
 
 " No, Jessie, j^ou must not go with me. There is no need 
 that two should be exposed to the danger; and, as I have 
 already been with her a great deal, tliere can be no further 
 exposure for me, and so I will go with her. I will tell Dr. 
 Saxon to-day that I have found a nurse for him to take with 
 poor ^lary." 
 
 Then came days of weary watching beside a sick-bed, and 
 the severest tax upon Mayon 's bodily strength, for her patient 
 needed continual care, and there was no rest for her. A boy 
 was procured to remain in the house and wait upon its oc- 
 cupants, and also to bring IMayon's meals to her, which Dr. 
 Saxon arranged should be prepared at a neighboring house. 
 Aside from him Mayon was alone with the suffering girl, 
 
278 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME; OR, 
 
 who was at times wild with delirium, and in moments of 
 reason was unceasing in her demands upon Mayon's strength. 
 And yet Mayon was not alone, for the tender-hearted physi- 
 cian, who was but a few j^ears Mayon's senior, gave all the 
 time he could to this patient, and often bade her go and rest 
 while he remained by the sick-bed. From this common 
 sympathy for their patient there arose a sympathy between 
 their hearts that Mayon little suspected at first. Dr. Saxon's 
 visits began to seem to her like oases in a desert. She looked 
 for his coming with what she thought was an eagerness for 
 Mary's welfare ; but why was it that, after her ear had been 
 strained to catch the sound of his coming, his firm, quick 
 step at last caused her heart to beat violently, and her hand 
 became too unsteady to carry the medicine or nourisliment 
 to her patient's lips? Why did she now become embarrassed 
 and confused when he took her hand for a cheering greeting 
 or parting grasp, when once she had, with all the dignity 
 and grace of her nature, received and returned these friendly 
 civilities ? 
 
 Dr. Saxon's eyes, so like Mayon's own, had looked into 
 hers with too much tenderness for her composure. His 
 manner spoke to her of more than friendly regard, and his 
 noble qualities inspired her with a feeling of worship, which 
 no man had ever awakened in her before. She was mortified 
 at her inability to disguise her feelings, and tried with all 
 her might to regain her former composure, but her efi'ort 
 resulted in complete failure. She feared she had given her 
 heart unsought, and looked forward to the end of her self- 
 imposed task, as a relief from her embarrassing position. 
 The end came sooner than she expected, and together they 
 watched the afflicted girl as she struggled in the agonies of 
 death. This was the first death-bed scene Mayon ever wit- 
 nessed, and when she realized that her patient was beyond 
 the reach of all earthly joy or pain, she kneeled beside the 
 
SACRIFICED ON. THE MORMON ALTAR. 279 
 
 bed, and, with face buried in her hands, gave vent to her 
 grief and terror in a passionate flood of tears, for she had 
 grown to love this poor girl, who had so little affection shown 
 her in the school. Dr. Saxon bent over Mayon, with his 
 dark locks, his curling beard and tender, pitying expression, 
 and gently stroked her bowed head till she grew quiet and 
 arose. Then there was a sound of wheels at the gate, and 
 friends of the stricken girl had come, as they thought, to her 
 relief; but they had come too late. A stronger, mightier 
 Power than theirs had wrested Mary from the suffering and 
 pain of life, and they could only mourn and weep, and ten- 
 derly care for their dead. 
 
 Mayon remained secluded at the house where kind hands 
 had prepared her meals until time had passed and a 
 blessed assurance was hers that she had not sacrificed 
 her own life or health in the performance of what seemed 
 her duty. Dr. Saxon did not neglect her now, but closely 
 watched her, to check, at the appearance of the first symp- 
 tom, the fever which he feared would prostrate her. But 
 careful habits, a free use of disinfectants, and a strong con- 
 stitution, with hope and cheer, and, it should be said, an 
 overruling Providence, prevented the attack of the disease, 
 and soon Mayon, recruited by her few days of rest, was again 
 in school, striving with all her might to graduate satisfac- 
 torily to herself, teachers and friends. During her self- 
 imposed task, Mayon's friends in New York were ignorant 
 of her procedure till towards the last. Then Dr. Saxon took 
 it upon himself to inform them. They were quite alarmed, 
 and were about sending a nurse from the city to take her 
 place, when news reached them that her patient was dead. 
 She was far dearer to them for the sacrifice she had made, 
 although they would have prevented it had they known in 
 time. Mayon now saw little of Dr. Saxon, save as she saw 
 him in her dreams and her recollections of her days of exile 
 
280 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 beside Mary's sick-bed. She wondered often if he had quite 
 forgotten her. 
 
 Graduation day came at last. Mayon's uncle and aunt, 
 with aunt Wells and Lillian, were there, and she had met 
 and greeted them ; and as she and Jessie looked over the 
 hall, Jessie saw, among the throng gathered there, her 
 parents and brothers. 
 
 "Look, Mayon," she said, ''there are father and mother 
 and the boys, after all. I thought they had not come." 
 
 Mayon saw them, but she had also seen another, whose 
 face she had missed of late, even though most earnestly de- 
 voting her mind to study. Dr. Saxon, with his tall, manly 
 form, and handsome, intelligent face, was one to be singled 
 out in a crowd. But it w\as not his striking physique that 
 interested Mayon in him to such an extent that she almost 
 forgot the presence of others. Neither was it the bouquet 
 which he held, composed entirely of white lilies and half- 
 opened rose-buds, although this did not escape her attention. 
 Her heart beat a little more rapidly as she wondered who 
 would receive that bouquet. She watched it and its owner, 
 who retained it until at last her turn came to deliver the vale- 
 dictory, for it had been given to her, and among her floral 
 gifts w^as the one of lilies and roses. The prizes were now 
 given, and after all which had been offered were aw^arded, 
 the principal said : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen: I have still another prize to give 
 this year, one entirely unexpected, and unoffered. IVIiss 
 Mayon Northfield was one of the promising competitors for 
 the prizes in Latin, notwithstanding her interruption in study 
 in the early part of the year. Again she has been interrupted 
 in the pursuance of her studies in an unusual manner. She 
 left her school, which she dearly loved, and secluded herself 
 by the sick-bed, and what proved to be the death-bed of one 
 of our number, at the imminent risk of health and even life. 
 
SACPvIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 281 
 
 She was the only person to be found who dared make this 
 sacrifice. A merciful Providence has spared her from all 
 liarm from the danger, and she has been able, by the greatest 
 of diligence, to graduate with honor to-day. But the Latin 
 prize slipped from her grasp and was won by another. The 
 prize for heroism which the faculty have decided to award 
 cannot be competed for by any member of the school. I am 
 authorized to present Miss Mayon Northfield with this medal 
 of gold, as a well-earned prize for heroism. Miss Northfield, 
 please come forward." 
 
 All eyes were now fixed on IMayon. Poor, frightened, de- 
 lighted and embarrassed Ma3'on ! She did not move. Again 
 the principal, in reassuring tones, said: 
 
 " Will Miss Northfield please come forward? " 
 
 Then ^layon rose, and, blushing and hardly knowing what 
 she did, she went forward, and the medal was hung about 
 her neck by a fine, golden chain. Everybody was surprised 
 — everybody was delighted — for the friends of the pupils had 
 learned of the noble conduct of the Mormon girl, and a mur- 
 mur of applause began and increased, till the sounds were 
 drowned by the music which the orchestra struck up. 
 
 Later, as Mayon and Jessie were examining the flowers 
 presented to them respectively, Mayon found a dainty card 
 nearly hidden in a basket of flowers, which was almost a 
 counterpart of one given Jessie. It contained only these 
 words : " For my dear sister Mayon." 
 
 "Carlos gave me this, Jessie," said she, "dear Carlos! I 
 have scarcely seen him for a year." 
 
 Then, on examining her bouquet, she found a little slip 
 of paper, buried among the lilies, with these words: "A 
 tribute to one who is like the lily in its purity and the rose 
 in its bloom." 
 
 Mayon read the words and shyly glanced at Jessie, who 
 had been too busy with her own gifts to notice Mayon's 
 
282 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 discovery. She did not show tliis paper to Jessie, but thrust 
 it into her pocket hke a guilt}^ person. Why she wished to 
 jiide it she could not tell, but she felt that it was meant for 
 her alone, and it seemed to her that at sight of it all eyes 
 ■would penetrate her secret. 
 
 But Jessie read her secret without the aid of these 
 words, in Mayon's face and manner as she examined her 
 treasure. " Mayon," she exclaimed, involuntarily, " Dr. 
 Saxon is your lover ! I know it is so. Your face betrays 
 you." 
 
 " No, Jessie," said Mayon, now regaining her composure : 
 " you are mistaken. Dr. Saxon is a very good friend to me, 
 but he has never given me any reason to warrant your 
 assertion." 
 
 "Then he will! 0, Mayon, I did so hope that at last 
 you might become my sister. Carlos is so fond of you, and 
 always will be, I know." 
 
 There was no time to say more, for there were friends 
 to greet, farewells to say, and but little time in the hurry 
 and bustle of leaving school for private conversation. 
 Mayon's school-life had been very happy, and her departure 
 from the place so dear to her was a sad one, but Jessie was 
 to accompany her to New York, and later to the sea-shore 
 with her uncle's family ; thus the ending of her school-days 
 was robbed of half its sadness. 
 
 Mayon and Jessie had not been many days at Mr. Ber- 
 nard's in New York, when at dinner one day her uncle said : 
 '' Mayon, I met your friend. Dr. Saxon, and learned from 
 him that he has secured a substitute, and is off duty for a, 
 few weeks, for the purpose of attending a course of lectures 
 here in the city on surgery, and also to give himself a little 
 rest which he much needed. His only home is at a hotel, 
 and he has no friends here. I invited him to visit us as 
 freely as his pursuits would allow, and assured him he would 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 283 
 
 always be welcomed by my family. So I hope we shall see 
 him here frequently." 
 
 Jessie watched Mayon with jealous eye, for her brother 
 Carlos' sake, and was annoyed to see her face crimson either 
 with embarrassment or pleasure. INIayon was saved the 
 necessity of a direct reply, for all became much interested in 
 their prospective acquaintance, and conversation was very 
 brisk. So it came about that Dr. Saxon was again much 
 thrown into Mayon 's society, and again his presence had the 
 same influence over her as in that sick-chamber miles away. 
 And when the house in the city was closed and its inmates 
 occupied a cottage on a rocky part of the shore, Dr. Saxon 
 followed them there. It soon became evident to all eyes 
 that Mayon was the magnet that attracted him. Lillian and 
 Jessie complained that he deprived them of Mayon's com- 
 pany much too often. Jessie was really quite disappointed at 
 prospect of Mayon's future. But Mayon herself was per- 
 fectly unconscious of their feelings on the subject, for into 
 her life there had come something of more absorbing interest 
 than consideration for these friends. 
 
 These were delightful days to Mayon. Life on the sea- 
 shore, in itself, was something new to her, and the picturesque 
 scenery, the water, the sea-breeze, the boats and bathing, 
 were fresh delights. Little excursions, in small parties, were 
 daily made to some point of interest ; beaches were searched 
 for shells, islands explored; and short sailing trips taken. 
 In short, Mayon's first visit to the sea-shore gave her perfect 
 happiness. 
 
 One day she had stolen away from the others and climbed 
 down the steep rock that jutted out into the water near the 
 cottage, and seating herself in a cleft in the rock, with book 
 in hand, settled lierself to read, where the music of the splash- 
 ing waves just below her, and the occasional sound of the 
 oars and the voices of the oarsmen of passing boats, were all 
 
284 ELDER northfield's home; or, 
 
 that disturbed the quiet of the place. She did not open her 
 book, however, but unconsciously began singing softly a song 
 of the sea. Soon she saw a boat approaching her, rowed by 
 Dr. Saxon, who was its only occupant. 
 
 " Mayon," said he, " will you come down and get into my 
 boat? The day is lovely, and the tide just right for a visit 
 to Shell Island. Let us row there and explore it in advance 
 of the others." 
 
 Mayon complied with his request, and just as they began 
 to speed away from the shore a shrill, childish voice screamed: 
 " Mayon, Mayon, we want to go too. Do come back and take 
 Daisy and me," and looking back there stood the little twin 
 brother and sister, their arms extended beseechingly towards 
 the boat. 
 
 Dr. Saxon turned his boat in the direction of the children, 
 then said : " Mayon, the boat is too light to take them too." 
 Then he shouted : " Dot, I will take you and Daisy out when 
 I return ; won't that do ? " 
 
 But they turned disappointedly away. Dr. Saxon watched 
 them, regretfully, out of sight, but sympathy for their little 
 woes was soon forgotten. " Mayon," said he, when well 
 away from shore, " sing me the song you were softly singing 
 on the rock." 
 
 Mayon did so, and many more followed, in some of which 
 he accompanied her. An hour passed rapidly, and then 
 Mayon inquired if they were nearing the island. It was 
 nowhere in sight. The sea was very still, the waves gently 
 rocking the light boat in their bed, the sun reflecting its 
 beautiful rays in the water. The air was fine, though the 
 day was calm and still, and all nature seemed at once grand, 
 serene and beautiful. At length Dr. Saxon observed a cloud 
 in the horizon, and watched it a little anxiously, pulling 
 swiftly in the direction of the island. But the cloud grew 
 rapidly in size, and soon had spread over the whole sky, 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 285 
 
 completely obscuring the sun from sight. It grew very dark, 
 and Dr. Saxon pulled the slight oars with strong arms and 
 the boat glided swiftly over the waves. Silently they sat 
 looking at each other and the approaching storm. Peals of 
 thunder rent the air. The sharp flash of lightning terrified 
 Mayon for the first time in her life. A strong gale of wind 
 tossed the little boat to and fro, and the oars were almost 
 powerless to guide it. Large drops of rain began to fall. 
 The air had suddenly changed, and the chill of night, which 
 was coming on, added to the cool wind and the rain, caused 
 Mayon to shiver with cold. Darker and darker it grew. 
 Fiercer the waves dashed and tossed their frail craft. 
 Louder was the crash of thunder and the rain seemed to 
 fall in torrents, and, by Dr. Saxon's direction, Mayon com- 
 menced to bale out the water that fell into the boat as fast 
 as she could. Each felt that they were working for dear 
 life. The island was now just discernible in tlie distance, 
 and with the cheering sight of land ahead the strong arms 
 that plied the oars increased the speed of the boat, till sud- 
 denly there was a sharp snap, and one oar was broken, just 
 below the oar-locks. In the sudden whirl that this gave the 
 boat it was nearly upset, and Dr. Saxon looked with agony 
 at the white, calm face of his companion, fearing she v.'ould 
 immediately disappear beneath the waves. But the boat 
 righted, and was now carried by the wind and waves directly 
 away from the island, for one oar and a broken piece were 
 powerless to resist the mighty currents of wind and water. 
 
 There was no course now but for tliem to drift with the 
 tide and watch and wait. Dr. Saxon laid aside the remnants 
 of his oars and relieved Mayon of her task. At last the rain 
 lessened and finally ceased to fall, but tlie strong wind and 
 high waves were carrying them far from home and friends. 
 There was no doubt they were drifting far out to sea, in the 
 darkness of night, with no eye to pity, no arm to save. 
 
286 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 The billows increased in size, as tlie}^ were carried farther 
 and farther from shore, and the end of it all seemed only a 
 question of time. Scarcely a word had been spoken till now, 
 for while there was any effort to be made for life there was 
 no time to talk, but now all efforts to save themselves were 
 useless. There was utterly nothing they could do. They 
 could only accept their fate whatever it might be. Dr. Saxon 
 now drew ^layon to him, and wrapping around her an old 
 blanket, which had been stowed away in the bow of tlie 
 boat, and of which some parts were dry, he put liis arms 
 firmly around her, and held her closely to himself, that her 
 drenched and dulled form might be warmed by contact 
 v^'ith his own body. Mayon realized that it was no time for 
 prudish scruples, and she was perishing from cold; there- 
 fore she unhesitatingly accepted the only relief that could 
 be given her. 
 
 " Mavon," said her companion, " do you realize our con- 
 dition?" 
 
 "Yes," said Mayon: "I believe that we must perish 
 soon." 
 
 " Mayon, dearest INIayon, do you forgive me for being the 
 cause of this? I would give my life to be able to place you 
 safely on land. Why did I venture out in this frail boat! 
 0, Mayon, can you forgive me? " 
 
 '• There is nothing to forgive. You did not think of this 
 result. Please do not blame yourself," answered Mayon. 
 
 At liis words of endearment, which tilled her with hap- 
 piness, even with death staring her in the face, Mayon's 
 heart beat so heavily that her companion, as he held lier 
 closely to himself, felt its wild palpitation, and he said : 
 " Mayon, since my eyes first looked into yours, I have loved 
 you and longed to call you mine. Although I have felt I 
 had no right to speak, yet now our hours are numbered, and 
 you can never be mine in life, yet we can die together; and 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 287 
 
 will you not give yourself to me, and be mine till death 
 comes — mine now — mine in death — and mine in eternity ? 
 Will you give yourself to me, ^layon, tell me!" and 
 convulsively the arms tightened their grasp, and Mayon 
 whispered : 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And if God in his mercy should interpose in our behalf, 
 of which I have no hope, if, ^layon, by any possibility, we 
 are saved, will you be mine in life, Mayon, too? I did not 
 mean to ask you yet. Perhaps I have no right, but I love 
 you, Mayon. Will you be mine, if we are saved? " 
 
 Mayon's answer was to slip her hand in his, and thus in 
 the darkness of night, with the angry billows ready to swal- 
 low them in their fierce grasp, with the thought that every 
 large wave they saw approaching might prove to be their 
 death shroud — thus these two were betrothed. Half the sting 
 of death was removed, as they felt that though in all proba- 
 bility they must die, yet they would die together. In his 
 own arms Dr. Saxon now held his treasure, which had be- 
 come priceless to him in the days of her unselfish devotion 
 to another, and even death could not wrest her from him. 
 The words, "till deatli doth part," would never be used to 
 bind them in marriage, and they had no force, for death 
 could not i)art them. 
 
 Mayon thousi;ht of her mother and all her dear ones, and 
 in the solemn hour that followed it seemed to each that his 
 or her lifetime Avas lived over again. Calmly and peacefully 
 these two — one in heart — waited for death. But suddenly a 
 glimmer of light was seen in the distance. A corresponding 
 glimmer of hope came into their hearts, and departed as 
 suddenly jis the light departed. Again the liglit \v:;s seen. 
 This time it was visible for a lonu'er period, and at iritervals 
 it appeared and disappeared, till at last it was constantly 
 shining away in the distance, and Dr. Saxon exclaimed : 
 
288 ' ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 " Mayon, I believe we are saved ! " Then releasing her from 
 his grasp, he shouted with all his might for help. He did 
 not hear any reply, but at intervals continued his cry, and, 
 at last, a faint shout was heard in the distance, and ere long 
 a cry of joy escaped their lips, as a large, strong boat rode 
 safely through the billows, and they knew that they were 
 saved. 
 
 As Dr. Saxon and Mayon did not return at nightfall, their 
 friends became alarmed, especially on the coming up of the 
 shower, and several boats, rowed by skilful men, put out to 
 sea in the direction Dot and Daisy said the little boat had 
 taken. Anxiously waited the friends on shore. Mrs. Ber- 
 nard and Lillian and Jessie could only watch and listen and 
 pray God to speed and guide the boats for their friends' de- 
 liverance. And as the night wore on, and they saw the 
 lights of the returning boats, they flew to the water's edge ; 
 and when at last the boat reached the wharf, and i\Iayon was 
 once more in their arms, they wept for joy. Mayon was ill 
 a few days, in consequence of her exposure and excitement, 
 and unable to leave her bed, but immediately on her re- 
 covery they all returned to New York. 
 
 Dr. Saxon's relation to Mayon was now^ known to her 
 friends. All were pleased save, perhaps, Jessie; but she 
 bravely tried to conquer her disappointment, and, to her 
 credit, be it said, that her congratulations to Mayon were no 
 1-33 sincere and heartfelt than those of the others. But it was 
 a sad task she set herself to write the news to Carlos, and 
 very tcr.dcrly and considerately she tried to perform it. Dr. 
 Saxon's dnys of res])ite from labor were now over, and he 
 returned to his professional duties. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ALL this time, though Edith had been urgently invited 
 to join the Bernards at their cottage by the sea, yet 
 she remained with her country friends, and led a peaceful, 
 happy life, forming a strong affection for the family and es- 
 pecially her little charges. She had long ago procured, ac- 
 cording to Mormon practice, a divorce from Mr. Northfield, 
 although she did not consider herself his lawful wife. But 
 she wished the connection to be severed in the eyes of her 
 Mormon friends. She steadfastly refused a maintenance at 
 her so-called, husband's hands, which he kindly offered her, 
 and heartily wished her to accept. She always respected 
 him, and was extremely grateful for his consideration, but 
 kindly and firmly declined to be dependent upon him. As 
 the summer days were waning she had allowed her thoughts 
 to carry her back to the days of her childhood, and she lived 
 over in imagination the scenes of her life in Mormonism. 
 Those days were dark, but not all dark. There was a time 
 when something of the love and hope that came into other 
 girls' lives was hers also. There once was one who came to 
 her bringing with him joy and teaching her, though perhaps 
 unconsciously, to hope for a life with him in the Gentile 
 world. And on one evening, while alone in her chamber, 
 she feil to wondering where her Gentile friend might be, and 
 whether he had entirely forgotten the poor, sick Mormon 
 girl, who drank in so eagerly the knowledge she was thirst- 
 ing for. Did he ever bestow one thought on her now ? He 
 had faithfully fulfilled the request her father had forced her 
 19 
 
290 
 
 to make that he would never see her again. Edith longed 
 to know v/hether he received this letter with any degree of 
 pain, and if a brighter life might have been hers had her 
 father not thus cruelly treated her. 
 
 While she was sadly pondering on her life, letters were 
 brought up to her, and opening one from Mayon, who 
 never forgot or ceased to love Edith, with whom she con- 
 stantly corresponded, she read the announcement of her 
 engagement to Dr. Will Saxon. Dr. Saxon's name had before 
 been mentioned in Mayon's letters; but though Edith 
 thought of the Dr. Saxon who was her friend of Salt Lake 
 City, yet the whole name never before had been mentioned 
 to her, and she did not suppose for a moment that the two 
 were identical. Now, however, at the information, evidently 
 written with so much happiness, Edith almost gasped for 
 breath. Was it the Dr. Will Saxon that she had loved so 
 long ago, and now realized that she still loved ? Could it 
 be that Mayon was to marry her Gentile friend of old? 0, 
 why had she been so foolish as to remember him with such 
 feelings ? But it might not be the same — she would read on 
 and perhaps learn. When, however, Mayon spoke of his 
 having spent some months in Salt Lake City in the beginning 
 of his medical career, all Edith's little hope was gone. She 
 then realized for the first time how strong a hold this man 
 had gained on her affections, and how she had cherished, 
 through all these years, secret thoughts of him. Somehow 
 she felt that a blank had come into her life now. Something 
 she hardly knew existed had been taken from her, and 
 Mayon's happiness was the cause of Edith's silent, unknown 
 heartache. Doubtless he had never cared for her as she had 
 for him, and now she felt a secret shame that she had been 
 so easily won, and resolved to conquer her foolish sentiment, 
 which had been so long-lived. No one should ever suspect, 
 by her word or manner, that it ever existed. Within her 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 291 
 
 own heart it must be crucified and buried, and Edith went 
 on with lier quiet, useful life, and no one knew the cause of 
 her increased quietness and gentleness, and the approach to 
 the sadness of her first days in the Gentile world. 
 
 But Dr. Will Saxon had cared for Edith, and in all the ef- 
 forts which he had made in those days to shake off his affec- 
 tion for her, which by her letter she evidently did not return, 
 he had failed. He had been deceived in her, and from her 
 own words it was evident she never wished to meet him again. 
 He, at times, almost resolved to disregard her request and 
 boldly seek to win her and save her from the Mormon life 
 which she so hated. But no; he had been deceived, and he 
 would obey her request and would not add to the sorrows 
 of her unhappy life by forcing his presence upon her. He 
 would forget her in the absorption of his professional inter- 
 ests. He returned to his eastern home and plunged with all 
 his strength of mind and heart into his profession. And 
 though Edith had no rival in his heart, yet by the power of 
 will and determination, in time he had nearly forced him- 
 self to forget her. Mayon's attractions at last won his heart, 
 and she was installed in the place once devoted to Edith. 
 Mayon had told him of her friend Edith, but never men- 
 tioned her girlhood name, and in turn he had told her of a 
 Mormon girl he had known and loved by that name. 
 Neither, however, suspected tlie truth, for it did not occur 
 to Dr. Saxon that Mayon's father would take a wife almost 
 as young as Mayon, and it was in complete ignorance of the 
 pain she was giving to Edith that Mayon confidingly told 
 her of her joys and hopes. 
 
 Mayon had requested that her marriage might be deferred 
 for a time, with the hope teat her father and mother would 
 leave the Mormons and come to the East before that event 
 took place. She earnestly wished her father might be the 
 one to give her away, and that her mother should be present 
 
292 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME ; OF., 
 
 when the daughter whom she had loved so Vv'ell and for 
 "svhom she had sacrificed so mucli took this step. 
 
 Dr. Saxon agreed to Mayon's request, and they were now 
 separated. Jessie had also returned to her home, and May on 
 was not a little lonely. Dr. Saxon's duties would not allow 
 him to visit his promised wife often, and she could only 
 solace herself with the letters for which he always could lind 
 time, even in the greatest demand upon his professional skill. 
 
 With great difficulty he succeeded in getting release from 
 his practice for a day or two, that he might visit his 
 friends with whom he had made his home. These friends 
 had consisted of an uncle named James Saxon, and wife, and 
 a maiden aunt, Julia, sister to James. The uncle was now 
 dead, and, as he left no children, the elderly people naturally 
 leaned upon their nephew, and bestowed upon him their 
 affection. His uncle had educated him for his profession, 
 and treated him in every way like a son. In one respect, 
 however, the young man always felt that injustice was done 
 him. Although assured that he was James Saxon's nephew, 
 he never could learn from either of the three one word fur- 
 ther on the subject of his relation to them, or anything con- 
 cerning his parents or birth. He felt that it was his right to 
 know about these matters, and harbored many bitter thoughts 
 against those who defrauded him of the knowledge. Whether 
 of honorable or dishonorable birth he knew not, but strongly 
 feared the latter, as they so persistently refused to inform 
 him on the subject. Once, in private conversation, his uncle 
 said, when he had arrived at a certain age, he would tell 
 him all he wished to know; but before that time came, James 
 Saxon had died, and his wife and sister refused to give to 
 Will the information which now, more than ever, he felt it 
 was liis right to receive. He harbored much bitterness to- 
 wards them on this account, though, except for that, there 
 was a great degree of affection and confidence between tliem. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 293 
 
 Since he liad known JVIayon and loved her, he was more 
 anxions thiin ever to learn about his birth and parents, and 
 determined that his lips should be sealed to her till he had 
 gained this knowledge. If he found that he was of honor- 
 able descent, and could offer her a stainless name, then ho> 
 would ask her to be his. If not, he would go many miles 
 away and try to forget her, for he would not ask jMayon to 
 stoop to marry a man who could not bear his father's name. 
 Therefore he had refrained from saying one word to her 
 which might compromise him in her eyes, if the worst was 
 true. But this had not deceived her, for he could not dis- 
 guise from Mayon his affection for her. At last, with the 
 prospect of an immediate death before them, there could be 
 no reason why his tongue should keep silence longer, at least 
 she might be his in death, and he yielded to the great long- 
 ing of his heart, and Mayon became his. Now that they 
 were saved, however, he was very much troubled that he had 
 allowed himself to speak prematurely, and resolved again to 
 vehemently demand of his aunts a knowledge of his birth, 
 and with this end in view he set out for the only home he 
 had ever known. 
 
 One day Mayon returned from a ride with Lillian and 
 her aunt, her cheeks aglow w^ith healtli, her eyes sparkling 
 with tlie pleasure of lier drive. On entering, to her surprise 
 and joy, she found Dr. Saxon; but though his greeting was 
 all she could wish, there w-as such a look of sadness and 
 grief in his face, and so much misery in his tones, that she 
 was instantly alarmed, and inquired the cause. 
 
 "I can scarcely tell you, Mayon," said he. " My own 
 loved one, can you bear trouble, greater perhaps than you 
 ever knew, and c;in you pity and forgive me, who has 
 brought it to you? " 
 
 "0, yes," said Mayon, her heart sinking with fear; "but 
 how can you have brought trouble upon me? Is it my 
 mother — my father ? Tell me quickly. I can bear it," 
 
294 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 Her face T\-as blanched with dread, her eyes distended 
 witii fear, but her lips were set with a firm determination to 
 endure with fortitude the blow she knew was about to fall 
 upon her. Dr. Saxon seized Mayon's hands passionately, 
 and, looking into her face witli unutterable pain, he said : 
 
 ^' Mayon, we can never marry. I have found out what I 
 have all my life longed to know, and the result must be our 
 separation. Perhaps not quite that, but you can never be 
 ■my wife, for, J^Iayon, do not be too much shocked when I 
 tell you that you are my sister! I can never be your hus- 
 band, for I am your brother. Your father is my father, 
 too." 
 
 ^fayon exclaimed, with horror, "No, no, no! that cannot 
 be ! What are 3'ou saying? " and she pressed her hands to 
 her temples, and wildly walked the room. "My father 3'our 
 father, too! Will, that is impossible. Are you insane? " 
 
 '' No, Mayon, I am only too sane. It is too true. I never 
 knew what my parentage was till now. I never meant to 
 ask you to be my wife till I knew, and not then unless I 
 could offer you an honorable name; but on that terrible 
 night, when death was seemingly about to obliterate all in- 
 equalities between us in station or birth, I yielded to the 
 temptation of the hour, and thus I have terribly wronged 
 the one I loved as I never loved human being before. But, 
 thank God, there is no disgrace attached to my birth. You 
 cannot be n^y wife, but you need not blusli to cnll mo 
 brother." And the young man, in spite of his grief, drew 
 himself proudly up with a new sense of his manliness. 
 
 "But, Will," said Mayon in a subdued, plaintive tone, as 
 she scarcely realized the situation, "how can it be? I do 
 not understand it. Tell me, please, and wh}- have they kept 
 you ignorant?" 
 
 " Yes, why have they? I could almost curse them for it," 
 said he, fiercely. " I will try to tell you the whole, Mayon. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 295 
 
 I have learned most of this from my aunt and my uncle's 
 wife, but have corresponded with your father — my father — 
 and thus corroborated the truth of their statements. It 
 seems that wlien Henry Northfield, then a very young man, 
 first embraced Mormonism in England, he secretly married 
 a girl named Saxon, whose friends were very much opposed 
 to him on account of his religion, and who hated all Mor- 
 mons. He was immediately ordained elder, and sent to a ' 
 distant part of England to preach. He parted with grief 
 from his young bride, regarding it his duty to leave all for 
 the religion he had espoused. They corresponded secretly, 
 however, for nearly a year — he constantly hoping his superior 
 in the church would allow him to return to his home and 
 wife ; but obedience to them was his first object, and he 
 proved too successful a missionary to be recalled from his 
 labors. When nearly a year had passed, the friends of his 
 wife informed him that she had died at the birth of her cliild, 
 telling them of the circumstances of her marriage, and pro- 
 ducing proof and sending loving messages to her absent 
 husband. The letter was written in a way to mislead him 
 and give him to understand that the child was also dead. 
 He never spoke to any one of this marriage, for his wife had 
 bound him by a promise never to disclose it till she gave her 
 consent. She never could release him now from his promise, 
 therefore he was forever silent, notwithstanding that she 
 herself had confessed it to her friends. His wife was already 
 buried when her friends wrote of her death, and it was two 
 years before he left his missionary work and visited her 
 grave and her friends to learn all he could of her last days. 
 His little son was secreted from him by the friends of the 
 child's mother, for the reason that they knew he would be 
 brought up a Mormon if his father discovered and took pos- 
 session of him, and they were too much attached to him to 
 willingly part with him. Therefore they kept the father in 
 
236 ELDEPv xortitfield's home ; OR, 
 
 ignorance of his son's existence, and soon sailed with him 
 to America. Not long after this Henry Northfield met and 
 married your mother, keeping secret even from her his 
 former marriage. That poor young wife, who died Avhile 
 lier liushand was many miles away, was my mother, and I 
 am the cliild who has heen defrauded of my name, my 
 father and my wife. Notwithstanding that my fatlier was a 
 Mormon, and that I would in all probability become one 
 also, yet I think they (believing, however, that they were 
 acting for the best) committed a great wrong. If they had 
 informed me on my entering manhood, they would have 
 been more pardonable, and all this mischief would have 
 been prevented. I only learned since I left you, by demand- 
 ing of them that they should tell me, and telling tliem of 
 my engagement to Mayon Northfield. Then in horror, as 
 they learned whose daughter you were, they told me the 
 whole story. I wrote to your father to discover positively 
 if he were my father too, and his answer leaves no room for 
 doubt. So, ]Ma3^on, all our hopes are blasted, and we have 
 now only to love each other as brother and sister. But there 
 is some comfort, at least to me, in the thought that the dis- 
 covery I have always desired to make need not alienate us 
 from each other. Though the strongest human tie can never 
 bind us, yet we are bound together by a strong natural 
 tie, and my darling Mayon is my sister, if never my wife. 
 Dear sister, do you forgive me for bringing all this trouble 
 on you — for winning your heart and hand before I had a 
 right to do so?" 
 
 " 0, Will, do not say forgive — forgive is not the word ; say 
 pity, for you deserve nothing but pity for it all. God will 
 help us to bear it, and in time we shall forget our disap- 
 pointment in our brotherly and sisterly love. There is much 
 to comfort us, Will, in the knowledge that we are closely 
 related, and our affection can continue as strong as ever. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 297 
 
 Will, it might have been worse — indeed, much worse. Let 
 us try to feel that God orders all things for the best." 
 
 " You are a blessed girl, IMayon, and I will try with all a 
 brother's power to make you happy, to atone for the trouble 
 I have brought upon you. Here is the letter your father — 
 our fatlier — wrote me. Shall we read it together?" 
 
 They did so. The writer expressed surprise and joy at the 
 knowledge of his son's existence, and described his indigna- 
 tion at first at knowing the deceit that had been practiced 
 upon him, but finally expressing gratitude that it had been 
 so, for otherwise his firstborn might, like his second son, 
 have been a staunch Mormon, and although a Mormon him- 
 self in name, yet he regretted that Forest was what he was, 
 and felt that God had overruled Will's destiny for the best. 
 He felt that the relatives of Dr. Saxon, however, had acted 
 very wrongly in keeping him in ignorance of his history, 
 and deeply regretted and blamed them for the continued 
 deception which had caused such grief to his son, and must 
 cause the same to his daughter when she learned of it. 
 
 " Poor Mayon ! '' he wrote, " I hope she will not take it too 
 hard. She seemed so happy, as in her letters to her mother 
 and me she told us of you. God bless you both, my chil- 
 dren, and grant that you may find much of the happiness 
 as brother and sister that you expected as husband and 
 wife." 
 
 Letters to Mayon from both parents were enclosed for 
 her to read directly on making the discovery. She perused 
 them, and at last her many emotions found relief in tears. 
 Dr. Saxon wept with her, and from that hour they began to 
 live what seemed to them a new life, and a purer, stronger 
 love than theirs never existed between brother and sister. 
 
 In a few days Dr. Saxon returned to his duties, for life 
 to him was no holiday; and Mayon, subdued and saddened 
 by the change in her life, was yet not made miserable by it3 
 
298 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME ; OR, 
 
 strange results, for Will was still hers to love and trust and 
 care for with a sister's right. The discovery was kept a 
 secret from the world for a time, Dr. Saxon retaining the 
 name he had always borne, and Mr. Northfield and his wife 
 did not choose to inform Forest of the existence of a half- 
 brother till they could see him face to face. This they ex- 
 pected soon to do, for Forest was soon to come home for a 
 time; but the Mormon authorities ruled it otherwise. They 
 desired to keep him away from the influence of his father, 
 T\-ho was little less than an apostate, for they could ill afford 
 to lose so useful a member of their church as Forest North- 
 field. He was informed that he was appointed on a mission 
 East, and was instructed to proceed immediately to New 
 England and secure all the converts possible and gather 
 them into Zion. 
 
 With the same missionary zeal, and the same spirit 
 of obedience to the church, that his fiither had exercised 
 ill his younger days, Forest went to New England, and 
 there he found he had a thorny path to tread, for ]Mor- 
 monism was so obnoxious to the people that he met with 
 great persecution. In some towns he found it impossible 
 to preach to the people, for he could not procure a place 
 of any description in which to hold his meetings. In 
 others he dared not remain on account of the indignation 
 of the people against him. Indeed he felt that he was suf- 
 fering many and severe persecutions for the Gospel's sake; 
 but yet he persevered, having faith that God would bless 
 him and his labors. In some towns he was enabled to preach 
 the doctrine of the Latter-Day Saints, for a few would go to 
 hear a Mormon preach as ever from motives of curiosity, 
 and though sneered and hissed at, and pointed out with de- 
 rision, yet as he went from place to place he went with the 
 encouragement that now and then a convert was made, 
 a few were being added to the church through his instru- 
 mentality. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 299 
 
 When Mayon learned of her brother's mission East she 
 became very much troubled, and feared that some poor girls 
 would be ensnared into Mormonism and thus their lives be 
 forever bliglited as Flora Winchester's had been. She re- 
 solved to do what she could to counteract her brother's in- 
 fluence, and by means of her mother's letters, and by diligent 
 writing to different pLices where she supposed her brother 
 to bc^ she was enabled to follow him in most of his move- 
 ments. She found out the address of a few of his converts, 
 and wrote to them stating that she was the sister of the 
 preacher who had persuaded them into the Mormon belief, 
 and setting forth the horrors of Mormon life, as she well 
 knew how. The result was that scarcely one adhered to the 
 new faith, and when Forest discovered that his sister was 
 undoing the work he had suffered so much to accomplish, 
 his wrath was terrible. He wrote to Mayon the most angry, 
 cruel letter a brother ever penned to a sister. Although 
 IMayon was very much grieved, she was not surj^rised. She 
 had anticipated the consequences before she began the work, 
 for she well knew Forest's devotion to his religion would 
 outweigh all regard for herself. He resolved to go far from 
 any of the towns in which he had labored, and acquaint 
 no person with his destination, hoping that thus she would 
 be unable to trace him. Accordingly he journe3^ed many 
 miles north, and without allowing the peojjle at first to 
 suspect his religion, he began lecturing in a ver}^ careful 
 manner. 
 
 It happened that the place in which he established him- 
 self was one of those old retired towns among the moun- 
 tains of northern New England, and the home of Dr. Will 
 Saxon and his aunts. Dr. Saxon had been called home en 
 account of the severe sickness of his aunt Julia, and as she 
 continued very ill he was obliged to remain with her. Forest 
 had been pleased with the size of his audiences in the place, 
 
300 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 for there was little but the religious service, the sewing circle 
 and local literary society, to call the peoi)le out ordinarily, 
 and a lecturer was seldom seen among them. Therefore his 
 meetings were an object of not a little interest. He had fed 
 his liearers on the " milk of the word,'' as the Mormons called 
 the more unobjectionable doctrines of their religion, and they 
 had received it with little opposition ; but on the introduc- 
 tion of the " strong meat," or more radical parts of their be- 
 lief, they began to recoil with disgust. But Forest was too 
 much accustomed to the disapprobation of the body of the 
 people to be easily discouraged, and Avas preparing for a 
 mighty effort for success, when he was taken suddenly ill, 
 and Dr. Saxon was called. 
 
 Dr. Saxon experienced strange sensations when he learned 
 that his half-brother was in the place lecturing on Mormon- 
 ism, but ]ie had not met him, for he had been too closely 
 confined by attendance upon his aunt. Now, however, as 
 he entered the room and saw the white face surmounted by 
 an intelligent forehead and a mass of curly light brown hair, 
 met the glance of those handsome light blue eyes and real- 
 ized that it was the face of his brother lying on the pillow, 
 it was with no small effort that he controlled himself. He 
 longed to give that delicate hand a brother's grasp, and with 
 a brother's influence Avin that man from error. But no one 
 knew that he took more than ordinary interest in his patient. 
 He advised his removal from the hotel to a quieter place, 
 and Forest was received into one of the most happy and re- 
 fined families in New England. Each member, in spite of 
 the al)horrence to his religion, vied with tlie other in minis- 
 tering to his relief, for they were touched with sympathy for 
 his sufferings, and strove to make him as comfortable as it 
 was possible for him to be. He was very ill for a few days, 
 and then began to recover. 
 
 Now he had ample time to observe the domestic relation 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 301 
 
 of Gentile life, the first he had ever seen. As he lay upon 
 his couch or was wheeled about in an easy-chair by the 
 father, mother or children, two or three of whom were nearly 
 grown to womanhood and manhood, little by little there 
 came over him a sense of the great difference between the 
 Gentile homes and the Mormon homes: between the appear- 
 ances of this mother and his own mother, whose life had 
 been robbed of its happiness by Mormonism's stern decrees. 
 He witnessed the perfect confidence and sympathy tliat ex- 
 isted between husband and wife, the affectionate agreement 
 of the young brothers and sisters, and realized, as he thought 
 of May on — as he thought of all that had passed in former 
 years between his parents — that in his father's family there 
 had not existed any approach to this domestic happiness. 
 He taxed his mind to recall something similar in the Mor- 
 mon world, but in vain. Never had he seen there a family 
 so happy in its domestic relation as his father's, and that 
 but poorly compared with this. 
 
 Dr. Saxon was now able to devote much time to his 
 patient, and soon began to be regarded by him as a friend 
 and welcome visitor. He gradually and gently led the con- 
 versation upon religious topics, and skilfully aroused Forest's 
 curiosity concerning the Gentile faith and Gentile institu- 
 tions of all kinds. Forest was soon able to join the family 
 at the morning devotions, and as the word of God was read, 
 and a simple, earnest prayer offered ; as he heard the family 
 together study the lesson for the Sabbath-school, he longed 
 to know more of the religion of their life — more of the faith 
 that made this family so happy. 
 
 Dr. Saxon rejoiced as he realized the influence that was 
 working on his patient, and he spent many hours tr3^ing to 
 persuade him that his own religion was a false one, and pro- 
 viding him with all the books he was able to read. At 
 length, one day, when he had nearly recovered sufficiently 
 
302 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 to pursue his lectures, Dr. Saxon entered, and Forest ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "Saxon, I have made up my mind that I have been a 
 fool all my life, and that m}^ father has been a fool before 
 me. My father has been gradually learning to see his life- 
 long mistakes for many months, but I — I have been as blind 
 as ever, even through all the Mormon wickedness that has 
 disgusted my father. I lay awake all last night, Saxon, try- 
 ing to cling to my old religion, but I have this morning flung 
 it to the winds, and now realize with shame and sorrow that 
 I have been the dupe of wicked and ignorant men. I have 
 been a useful tool in their hands, and would have been still 
 more useful to them had it not been for the interference of 
 that noble sister of mine. Saxon, you cannot tell how I 
 hate and despise myself for the letter I wrote her. Poor 
 Mayon! she has had troubles enough in her young life, with- 
 out my adding to them. I thank God now that she wroto 
 those letters and undid the work I labored so hard to do." 
 
 He had told Dr. Saxon of Mayon's interference in his 
 work, and in turn Saxon had told him of his acquaintance 
 with Mayon, withholding all that had transpired of the 
 greatest interest between them, however, as he saw that 
 Forest was ignorant that any engagement had existed. His 
 parents were about to write to him the news from Mayon, 
 when they received Dr. Saxon's letter, and therefore sup- 
 pressed the whole. Forest thought he had eluded Mayon's 
 vigilance in coming here, but he had not, for his physician 
 had written every few days informing her of the condition 
 of their brother, both physically and mentally. She had 
 forgotten her grief in the joyful news that Forest was being 
 led to see the error of his belief. At first, on learning of his 
 illness, she wished to come to him, but Dr. Saxon advised 
 her not to do so, for he had every care he could need, and 
 was not in a kindly enough mood towards her to be bene- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 303 
 
 filed in the least by her presence. But now, when Forest 
 had announced in this positive manner his conviction, Dr. 
 Saxon felt like leaping for joy for Mayon's s'ake; and still 
 more when Forest said: 
 
 " I have written to Mayon to-day, asking her to come and 
 see me. Do you suppose she will come? " 
 
 " I have no doubt of it, my friend." 
 
 "And when I tell her that henceforth I am a Gentile and 
 forever renounce Mormonism, how her large, dark eyes will 
 shine for joy! Do you know, Saxon, that your eyes are 
 precisely like Mayon's, your hair is like hers, and somehow 
 you look so like her that you have continually brought her 
 before my mind; and when I was very weak and sick, I 
 sometimes thought it was Mayon that came in and took my 
 hand and spoke to me. Yes, you are very like Mayon. 
 Perhaps that is why I have become so fond of you. I re- 
 member well how, when we were children, I used to terrify 
 the child by explaining the most frightful of our doctrines ; 
 and now, that everything looks so different to me, I do not 
 wonder that she was terrified. I do not wonder that she 
 tried to counteract the effects of her brother's teachings, or 
 sought to win the poor Mormon girls away from their un- 
 happy life. 0, it is bitter to think I have wasted so much 
 of my time; but poor father must feel that his life has been 
 wasted! I mean to go home as soon as I am able and per- 
 suade him to leave them all." 
 
 Two days later there was a happy meeting in Forest's 
 room, as Mayon there met with her two brothers. Never 
 before had Forest and Mayon been in such sympathy with 
 each other. 
 
 " Mayon," said Forest, " Dr. Saxon has proved the truest, 
 best friend I ever knew. He has been the means of freeing 
 me from the bondage of a false religion, showed me the 
 beauties of the Gentile life by bringing me into this family, 
 and if he were my brother, I could not love him more." 
 
304 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME) OR, 
 
 " Forest, let me tell you something hitherto a secret between 
 us. I am your brother ! " 
 
 Forest looked at him in amazement, then at Mayon, as if 
 trying to read from her face what the speaker meant. 
 
 "My brotlier! Saxon, what do you mean?" and Dr. 
 Saxon then gave Forest the whole of his recently learned 
 history. 
 
 At the close Forest grasped him by the hand and said : 
 
 *'God bless you, my brother Will! and I thank him that 
 you are my brother, for you might never have been the 
 means of making me what I am, if it had not been so." 
 
 In a few days Forest started for Salt Lake City, Mayon 
 returned to New York, and her brotlier Will accompanied 
 her, for he was again to spend a few months in the city in 
 pursuance of his surgical studies, and Mayon's friends in- 
 sisted on his making his home with them. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 305 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 AFTER a few weeks Mayon received a letter from Jessie, 
 containing an urgent request for a visit from her. As 
 she had spent but very little time with them for a year, 
 she accepted the invitation, and soon old scenes were re- 
 visited, old friendships renewed, and old intimacies con- 
 tinued. Mayon's engagement with Dr. Saxon and its 
 peculiar termination were known to these friends, and in 
 their hearts was a tender feeling towards her for the singular 
 trial she had passed through. Jessie did not harbor one 
 exultant or hopeful thought for Carlos, but was a nearer 
 and dearer friend, if possible, to Mayon than ever. Carlos 
 was not at home now. He had been admitted to the bar 
 and had begun to practice, bidding fair to become a success- 
 ful lawyer. Mayon missed him very much, and after a time 
 found that she was thinking of him, and their walks, drives 
 and talks, a great deal. The place scarcely seemed the same 
 without him, and she was constantly looking forward to the 
 time when he was expected home for a few days. 
 
 At last the day of his arrival came, and the whistle of the 
 train that was to bring him had been heard in the distance. 
 But it did not reach the station. A shrill whistle to down 
 breaks, a sudden crash, and cars and passengers were mingled 
 in one broken mass. The fortunates who escaped were 
 quickly at work, and among the forms that were borne on 
 shutters to the surrounding houses the body of Carlos was 
 taken to his home, and when Mayon saw his face, apparently 
 cold in death, she fainted, and was carried in and laid on 
 20 
 
306 ELDER NORTHFIELd's HOME; OR 
 
 Jessie's bed. Kind friends soon restored her, and when they 
 told her that Carlos had only fainted from loss of blood, and 
 that though very Aveak, yet his injuries were confined to a 
 severe flesh wound and some bruises, from which he would 
 soon recover, Mayon could not speak, but burying her face in 
 her pillow she gave vent to her emotion in tears. 
 
 It was not long before she was again walking with Carlos 
 in the green fields and beside the little streams that abounded 
 in the vicinity, for it was summer, and one day he led her 
 to the same mossy bank where two years before he had asked 
 her to become his wife. Then, he was confused, embarrassed 
 and absent-minded, and she was perfectly composed and 
 unconscious of his emotion. Now, as he asked her again to 
 be seated, where he had ruthlessly destroyed the flowers they 
 had gathered, and as he referred to that day so well-remem- 
 bered by them both, Mayon's eyes could not look into his; 
 her cheeks were like the rose and her voice trembled. 
 
 "Mayon," said her companion, "two years ago 3^ou told 
 nie you never could love me only as a brother and friend. 
 I replied that I should hope you would change. I did hope 
 for a year ; then when Jessie wrote me from the sea-shore 
 that you had given the love to another that I had craved, 
 that hope died within me, and through all the changes of 
 your life and mine it never revived till since I met you here. 
 Jessie told me of the grief you could not conceal as I was 
 brought home apparently dead, and it made me too happy. 
 It gave me hope that after all the desire of my heart might 
 be granted. I have watched you since then and fancied I 
 detected something stronger than a sister's love for me. Was 
 it only fancy? Mayon, I do not wish to pain you as I did 
 two years ago, but I must ask you again to be mine. IMayon, 
 do you love me now well enough to become my wife ? " 
 
 Returning in the twilight, as Carlos and Mayon neared 
 the house, Jessie came to meet them. Carlos seized her 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 807 
 
 around the waist, and, kissing her impulsively, said : " Little 
 sister, it is all right now. Mayon is mine ! " 
 
 " 0, Mayon ! " exclaimed Jessie, " I am so glad. I always 
 thought Carlos deserved this reward. Now I have my heart's 
 desire, for you are to be really and truly my sister." 
 
 One year before, Mayon had thought no one but Will 
 Saxon could ever have the love of her heart, without him 
 her life would be a blank, and when the blow fell that 
 separated thicm — in a sense — slie looked ui)on her future as 
 a lonely one to be unshared by any nearer relation than those 
 given her by the tics of nature; but a year had taught her 
 to regard the lover as her brother, — the brother as a lover, 
 and Mayon was happier than she had thought it possible 
 for her ever to be. She now felt that it would be a delicate 
 task to communicate to Will what had occurred, but unre- 
 servedly confided everything to him in the letter she sent 
 him. His answer contained the following words : 
 
 "I am heartily glad, dear sister, that such happiness has 
 come into your life, and that he who has so nobly earned the 
 prize he has patiently waited for and at last won, and who 
 deserved it so richly, at last has his reward. It is as it should 
 be. I feel humbled when I think of my failure to act as my 
 conscience directed, and the consequence which was a sad 
 entanglement for us. He is worthy of the first place in your 
 heart. And for you, Mayon, could I have known one year 
 ago that another would soon make you as happy as I had 
 made you, notwithstanding the pangs of jealousy I might 
 have suffered, I would have rejoiced as I now rejoice. May 
 God bless my sister and make her life a very happy 
 one." 
 
 Later Mayon received another letter from Will, from which 
 we quote the following: "I have strange news to tell you, 
 Mayon — to me very happy news, and I hope it will be the 
 same to you for my sake, and for the sake of one who has 
 
303 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 had a joyless life. Your friend, Edith, came here a few days 
 a^o, not knowing of my presence, and we met in your uncle's 
 parlor. Notwithstanding the changes years have effected in 
 both, we recognized each other, for, Mayon, she is the same 
 Edith I knew in Salt Lake City, and whom I told you re- 
 quested me by letter never to see her again. That letter she 
 was forced to write Ijy her father, and through all these years 
 she has remembered me in spite of her efforts to forget me. 
 I believed she did not love me, and that helped me to 
 tram])le out all my affection for her; but, Mayon, I am sure 
 it will not grieve you when I tell you that at sight of her 
 face, and with the conviction that I had been mistaken in 
 my estimate of her, my old love for her returned, and this 
 day she has promised to become my wife. Her father suc- 
 ceeded in bligliting her happiness for years, but, thank God, 
 not forever, for my whole life shall be devoted to her, and, if 
 it is in my power to accomplish it, she shall make up for 
 her years of sorrow by years of double happiness. Poor 
 Edith ! but she is mine now ! Why did I never suspect the 
 Edith you told me of was the one I had known and loved? 
 I never thought of her being a young person : and think, 
 Mayon, of the strangeness of the fact that I am to marry my 
 father's wife ! I bless him that he was always so kind to 
 her, and am devoutly thankful that though the greatest of 
 kindness existed between them yet there was no love. Little 
 did I think, Mayon, when I received the news of jovlt en- 
 gagement, that I should have a similar story to tell so 
 soon." 
 
 Enclosed was a missive from Edith, of which we give a 
 part. 
 
 " My dear Mayon : Will has written the news to you, so I 
 will only add a few words for myself. I can scarcely be- 
 lieve that it is all true — that I am, at last, after my sorrowful 
 lifej to know what happiness is — perfect happiness. You 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 309 
 
 little suspected the pain that your letter gave me, telling of 
 your engagement to one I had loved since my girlhood days, 
 and I determined then that you or no one should ever sus- 
 pect it. But, Mayon, believe that on learning of the dis- 
 covery which must separate you from him, I did not harbor 
 any but feelings of sympathy for you, and were it not that 
 you have learned to give another the love you once had for 
 Will, I should fear to pain you as your letter once pained 
 me. But I know now, dear Mayon, that you can rejoice in 
 my joy, as I do in yours. 0, how God has seemed to guide 
 everything for our good, since the day we set out, two 
 frightened fugitives, from our bondage, and the night we 
 spent together in that lonely little hut by the roadside, fear- 
 ing our enemies would discover us I Surely, 
 
 " ' God works in a mysterious way liis wonders to perform.' " 
 
 As Mrs. Northfield, away in her home in Utah, was pre- 
 paring to go out riding, she heard what seemed a familiar 
 step at her door; it was boldly thrown open, and. to her 
 surprise and delight, her son entered, and with all the 
 fondness of his boyhood days he clasped his mother in his 
 arms. 
 
 '• Forest I my son I my son I " she exclaimed, '" can this be 
 you ! I supposed you were many hundred miles from here. 
 Why have you come back so soon? Have you been re- 
 called ? '' ' 
 
 "Yes, mother. I have been recalled, but not by Mormon 
 authority. My own conscience recalled me, and how I have 
 longed to arrive and see you! The train seemed to move at 
 a snail's pace, I was so impatient to get here. ^lother, I am 
 a Mormon no longer. I went to New England to convert 
 others. I come home converted myself. Behold your apos- 
 tate son!" 
 
 "0, my son, thank God! — at last he has heard my 
 
'810 ELDER NORTIIFTELd's HOME ; OR, 
 
 prayers. It seems too good to be true. As I begin to tread 
 tbe down-bill side of life, new l)lessings are being bestowed 
 on me. There is yet to be a happy ending to my elieckered 
 life. Forest, it has of late been almost my only grief to know 
 that my son was so strong in the Mormon faith; that he in 
 all probability would, in time, cause the misery his fother 
 has unwillingly caused; and, worst of all, that he has been 
 using all his influence, all the talent God has given him, to 
 bring those of Gentile fiiith into the church. I have feared 
 he would be the cause of some other lovely girl being led to 
 suffer, as Flora has suffered. How, Forest, was this change 
 in your faith brought about? " 
 
 "Through the instrumentality of my half-brother. Dr. 
 Saxon, mother: for when I was taken sick, he was the means 
 of my being removed to the home of one of the best families 
 on earth, and their influence and his, combined with what 
 I learned there of Gentile religion and Gentile domestic life, 
 opened my eyes at last to tlie truth ; and 0, how I regret 
 now that I have not been brought up in my mother's re- 
 ligion, instead of my father's! I almost envy Mayon, for 
 she can never have to regret, as I do, years of ignorance and 
 superstition. Her life has so far been so well spent, and she 
 has been as earnest for the right as I have been in the wrong. 
 0, why did my father ever come to believe this religion ! 
 It seems to me, if I had known the Gentile religion, Mor- 
 monism could never have deceived me." 
 
 " But, my son, when he and I embraced it we knew 
 nothing about the doctrine of polygamy and other horrible 
 doctrines; but, when once firmly established, it was impos- 
 sible for your father to give it all up, and little by little he 
 embraced the whole." 
 
 "What a strange discovery it is about Will! I knew 
 nothing of it till he told me, or of his engagement to 
 Mayon." 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 311 
 
 ""We were just on the point of writing to you of the en- 
 gagement, when we learned how it terminated, and then, 
 waited to see you; hut you did not come home, as we ex- 
 pected, and therefore you have been left to find it out in this 
 way. But tell me more of your sickness, and of May on and 
 AVill, and of the peoj^le who cared for you." 
 
 So they talked a long time, and Forest inquired for his 
 father and for Flora, whose husband had been sick some 
 months. 
 
 "Poor Flora is in deep trouble. I was just going to 
 ride out and see her. Burnside is growing rapidly worse, 
 and probably cannot live long. Flora nurses him as faith- 
 fully as though he had been a kind husband, and the poor 
 girl is nearly w^orn out herself. She has a frightful cough 
 that it makes me shiver to hear. I have tried to help her all 
 I could, but he only wants Flora near him ; and though I 
 believe he is more humane towards her than when wtII, yet 
 he is too selfish to realize that she can ever be tired or need 
 rest. In short, she is wearing her life out for the man who 
 has made her so miserable." 
 
 "The wretch!" exclaimed Forest. "How could a man. 
 treat that sweet girl in the way he has done? " 
 
 " It is not the man, my son, who is first to be blamed. 
 It is Mormonism that has made him what he is." 
 
 " Yes, mother, I can see now that what you say is true." 
 
 " There is something mysterious in the way Flora is pro- 
 vided with funds, for they became very poor and were really 
 in Avant. I did not know it, for Flora would have been too 
 proud to tell me or your father, or we would have been gl^^d 
 to relieve them ; but some one must have found out her con- 
 dition, for, as in the days of her infant's sickness and death, 
 her physician, at regular intervals, gives her a sum of money, 
 and, try as hard as she will. Flora can learn no more." 
 
 Mr. Northfield now returned to his home, and his surprise 
 
312 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME) OR, 
 
 at meeting his son was only equalled by his astonishment 
 and pleasure at learning of the change in his faith. Mr. 
 Northfield was hardly considered a Mormon now, and 
 though making no active opposition to the church, yet its 
 officers hated him thoroughly. He dared not attack their 
 religion while living among them, hut his business kept him 
 there, and he felt that he had nowhere else to go, although 
 Walter Bernard had extended a cordial invitation to him to 
 come to his home, and an offer of assistance in business, and 
 Mayon had written repeatedly, asking him to leave the 
 Mormons and come to New York. Mrs. Northfield did not 
 urge him away from what had been their almost life-long 
 home, though she wished for the time to come when they 
 should leave it. She longed once more to live in the Gentile 
 world and to meet her sister, and again have her loved 
 daughter near her. But she felt that she could afford to be 
 patient, for the time w^as surely coming, and, at least, her 
 husband's eyes were opened, and he was no more a victim 
 to the fanatical delusions of Mormonism. He now rejoiced 
 that the effect of his teachings in his son were counteracted 
 by the influences that had lately been exerted over him so 
 effectually. 
 
 *'My son," said he, w^hen he had heard the story of 
 Forest's conversion, " I thank God that, though I shall have 
 to repent to my dying day the instruction I was only too 
 successful in giving you, yet I shall not have to know that 
 my teachings have made you what I am — a worse than use- 
 less man in the w^orld." 
 
 " Father, you are not that, and with your business talent 
 you can become far from a useless man in the East. Why 
 not leave this city and go to New York, and, with Mayon 
 and Vv^ill, we can be so happy all together? I was so im- 
 pressed with the happiness of the family life I saw and 
 enjoyed among the Gentiles, that I long for the same happi- 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 313 
 
 ncss for my father's family; and now that we are united 
 at last, i see no reason why we may not be as happy a family 
 as there is on this earth." 
 
 '•True, my son," said his father, "and I wish for your 
 mother's sake to leave this place, and have been trying to 
 see my way clear to do so ; but it is impossible to dispose 
 of my business here without sacrificing almost everytliing. 
 I fear I shall be obliged to go into the Gentile world a poor 
 man; and at my age, and after laboring as I have to accu- 
 mulate something, such a prospect is anything but cheering. 
 But, Marion," said he, turning to his wife, " no matter what 
 the sacrifice is, I am determined that another summer shall 
 find me forever departed from this city. The longing of 
 your lifetime shall be granted, and my dear wife shall yet 
 enjoy the closing years of her life, and may they atone in 
 some measure for the many years of sadness that my super- 
 stition and fanaticism have caused her." 
 
 Mrs. Northfield's eyes were dimmed with tears, and her 
 emotion kept her speechless; but her husband knew by the 
 look of gratitude and joy in her face that she was made happy 
 by his declaration, and he was satisfied. 
 
 On his dying bed lay one of Mormonism's champions. 
 His last hour had come. His frail and awe-stricken wife 
 wiped the death dew from his brow. Another wife sat weep- 
 ing in a corner ; but this one — this feeble, tottering young 
 woman — though she shed no tears, tried to soften the terrors 
 of death for one who had tried so little to soften the terrors 
 of life for her. The dying eyes opened and fixed on the frail 
 form by his side, the lips parted and whispered the words : 
 
 " Flora, you have been kind to me, but I have not been 
 kind to you." 
 
 That was all. In a moment more he was beyond the 
 reach of all human pity or care. Forest and his mother 
 
314 ELDER NORTIIFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 had been with Flora constantly of late, and Forest had insisted 
 that Flora leave her husband in his care and obtain some * 
 rest, which she persistently refused to do. Now she her- 
 self required the tenderest care. The necessity for exertion 
 being over, her strength failed her, and one wife followed 
 the husband to his grave, while the other lay prostrated. 
 Mrs. Northfield remained with Flora, and after the lapse of 
 many days she was able to be removed to the home of the 
 former. This was her first home in Mormondom, and again 
 its shelter, its kindness and its loving care were hers. Mr. 
 Northfield was arranging to close out his business and re- 
 move to New York with his family, and Flora now yielded 
 to the entreaties of her parents and was to accompany them. 
 But her wasted form and sunken eyes, her flushed cheek 
 and her lagging footsteps, plainly told that her friends could 
 not keep her long, and the journey was again and again 
 deferred that she might gain strength to endure it. Finally 
 her physician pronounced her able to travel, and then 
 Forest told his parents that Flora was to go to New York 
 as his wife. 
 
 " If her life is nearly spent," said he, " I shall have a hus- 
 band's right to try to make her last days happy ones. If 
 not, as I must hope, then by a lifetime of devotion to her I 
 will strive to make her forget the wretched years of her life 
 in Mormonism." 
 
 Flora had once refused the offer of Forest's hand, but in 
 the following years, when she drank deep of sorrow's bitter 
 cup, that hand, though unseen, unknown, was extending aid 
 to her and relieving the only one of her troubles that it had 
 power to relieve. The heart which she unconsciously won, 
 only to thrust aside, retained its tenderness, and prompted its 
 possessor to noble deeds for which he could never hope to 
 be rewarded, and at last Flora discovered who had been her 
 secret benefactor. 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 315 
 
 At the home of the Bernards all was life, joy and bustle, 
 for the house contained not only the Bernard family, with 
 aunt Wells, Mayon and Edith, but Mr. Winchester with his 
 wife, sons and daughter Jessie, and Dr. Saxon, as he was 
 still called. But the capacity of the Bernard hospitality was 
 not exhausted, for more guests were eagerly looked for, and 
 Avhen at last two carriages arrived and from one stepped Mr. 
 Northfield and his wife, quickly followed by Forest, who 
 tenderly lifted Flora from the carriage and carried her into 
 the house, placing her in her father's arms — when from the 
 other alighted. Edith's brother, Francis, with his wife and 
 two little ones, whom he seemed to forget for the time in his 
 happiness at meeting his sister — then followed a scene 
 which words would be inadequate to portray. Mayon was 
 embraced by her father and mother, and the sisters, who 
 had parted in such grief in that same city wdien they were 
 young and fair, now met after a quarter of a century had 
 passed, and each felt that years, cares and nearer relations 
 had not lessened in any degree the affection they then had 
 for each other. Mr. Northfield could not speak for his emo- 
 tion, as the son he had never seen approached him with 
 outstretched hand and the one word, " Father! " 
 
 It was a thrilling moment when that father and son be- 
 held each other for the first time. Mr. Northfield was then 
 w^armly greeted by Mrs. Bernard, the Elsie whose clear eyes 
 and sound arguments, in years long past he had sought to 
 avoid. While his father was speaking with her. Will stepped 
 back and gently drew Edith with him to his father. Then 
 the first shade of embarrassment was felt as Will said : "Here 
 is my bride that is to be." 
 
 And Mr. Northfield greeted his former wife, soon to be- 
 come his son's wife, saying: "God bless you both, my 
 children." 
 
 There was a mother weeping for joy that her long-lost 
 
816 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 daughter was returned to her, though such a wreck of her 
 former self; father, brothers and sister, unconscious of the 
 presence of the others, in their joy that their treasure was 
 restored to them, and it seemed Forest's right to her posses- 
 sion was almost disputed, but he was watching her with 
 jealous eye, fearing the effects of the excitement. 
 
 There were " God bless you's " from the father of Flora 
 to the Northfields for their care of her, and from Mr. North- 
 field to aunt Wells and the Bernards, who had done so much 
 for his daughter, and from Edith's brother to Will, who had 
 made his sister at last so happy. There was a warm greet- 
 ing between Mrs. Northfield and Edith, between Carlos and 
 Mayon's parents. Will and his stepmother, and between 
 those who had been heretofore strangers to each other. 
 Jessie, Lillian and Mayon were like birds darting here and 
 there in the general commotion. Leonard and Harry could 
 scarcely refrain from giving three cheers, and little Dot and 
 Daisy, without comprehending the cause of so much emo- 
 tion, glided about here and there, putting up their rosy lips 
 to be kissed promiscuously. When the greetings were over 
 and some degree of calmness had been restored, Walter 
 Bernard said : 
 
 " Friends, should we not thank God for this happy meet- 
 ing, which is so like a heaven upon earth ! " 
 
 All assented, and as he rendered praise to an all-wise 
 Father for tlie guiding of His hand, and the bringing about 
 of such happy results by mysterious and unlooked-for cir- 
 cumstances, all hearts went up to God in thanksgiving. 
 
 A few days later aunt Wells, with her aged dignity and 
 snow-white hair, occupies the warmest corner of that parlor 
 and one of the easiest chairs, and her kind glance wanders 
 about from face to face, and finally rests alternately upon 
 her nieces, Marion and Elsie ; the latter yet blooming and 
 fresh though past life's meridian; the former, though her 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 317 
 
 face is lined with sorrow, and her head is plentifully decked 
 with silver threads among the gold b)^ her years of sadness, 
 yet her eyes beam with no less happy light than those of 
 her sister, as they are now united after so many years of 
 separation. 
 
 In another easy-chair, which is surrounded by Mr. Win- 
 chester, his wife, and Leonard, sits, or rather reclines, Flora 
 — Flora Northfield now, and behind her stands the tall 
 form of her young husband, watching her with all the fond- 
 ness and solicitude of his affection. Mr. Northfield watches 
 this group with a half-sad, half-gratified look, while Mr. 
 Bernard, with Daisy in his arms and Harry and Dot at his 
 side, is the picture of satisfaction as he surve3'S the little 
 gathering under his roof. 
 
 A rustling is heard, and now all who have been missing 
 from this group enter. The man of God rises, a solemn 
 hush pervades the room, while he reads the marriage ser- 
 vice and Mr. Northfield bestows his daughter Mayon upon 
 Carlos Winchester, and Francis Parker gives his sister Edith 
 to Dr. Will Saxon, while Lillian and Jessie officiate as 
 bridesmaids. 
 
 AVould that a veil might be drawn here ; but this other- 
 wise happy ending must be marred by one more scene, for 
 sunny skies and paths strewn with flowers are not for all. 
 In some troubled lives peace and happiness only come by 
 crossing the dark river and passing through the pearly 
 portals of heavenly gates ; or when life is almost over to 
 gild at last, by a ray of light, a sad past. 
 
 In a darkened room, on a snowy couch, lay a feeble, 
 wasted form, scarcely less white than the couch on which 
 Bhe rested. Around her were gathered father, mother, 
 brothers and sister. By her side, with her emaciated hand 
 
818 ELDER NORTHFIELD's HOME; OR, 
 
 clasped in his, sat the strong young man, who only a few 
 short months before clasped that hand in the marriage- 
 service, his manly breast now heaving with sobs. He was 
 not ashamed of his weakness, though for his loved one's sake 
 he strove to repress his emotion. 
 
 '' Forest," said the dying wife, as her eyes, full of love and 
 peace, rested on him, " do not grieve so. Only a little while 
 and we shall meet again." 
 
 " My darling, I cannot have it so ! I hoped the change 
 of climate might restore you, with all the care I would give 
 you, and with the happiness of being again at your home. 
 I did not believe you would surely leave me so soon. My 
 poor, poor wife ! " 
 
 " 0, no : not poor wife. Poor Forest ! you should rather 
 say. As for me, I am only too content — too happy in being 
 allowed to die at home. It would be too much to ask that 
 I should be permitted to live. Never was a person made 
 happier than you have made me for the past few months — 
 you and father and mother and the rest. Heaven cannot 
 be sweeter, more lovely, more beautiful than home has been 
 and is to me. Angels cannot be more lovable than you 
 have all been, nor heavenly music more enchanting than 
 the songs you have sung to me. I am going to find my 
 little Jessie. O, it is not hard to die — it is harder to live. 
 You, Forest, and you, father and mother, and the rest of 
 you, are to be pitied — not I — for I know you will miss your 
 Flora more than she deserves to be missed. But try not 
 to mourn for me. Do not be sad, but rejoice that I am so 
 happy at last." 
 
 The friends all knew that Flora could scarcely breathe 
 the day out, and their hearts were torn with anguish, as they 
 realized that they were so soon again to be robbed of their 
 treasure, and this time she would never come back to them. 
 She breathed fainter after the exertion of speaking, but after 
 
SACRIFICED ON THE MORMON ALTAR. 319 
 
 a time she spoke again, this time to Mayon and Carlos, 
 beckoning them to her side. As they bent over her she 
 wound one arm about the neck of each, and said : " JMayon, 
 I am so glad you took my place here long ago — try to fdl 
 it more than ever when I am gone : won't you ? " She then 
 called Jessie to her; then Leonard, giving them each a fare- 
 well caress and parting word, striving to check their tears. 
 Tlien she bid her father good-bye with the greatest of tender- 
 ness, for his heart was nearly broken with sorrow and re- 
 morse. Her mother clasped her child to her breast, but did 
 not shed one tear or make one moan. 
 
 As the sun was slowly sinking. Flora asked Forest to 
 hold her where she could once more see its brightness, and 
 look at the hills and fields where she used to wander in 
 childhood with her brothers and sister. Forest held her in 
 his strong arms, and at last she said: "We shall all meet 
 again there. Forest, dear Forest, good-bye ! " and as the 
 sun went down in all its brightness, so did this life go out 
 in all the bright loveliness of youth, — one sacrifice on the 
 Mormon altar. 
 
 THE END.