“And right you are.”
“However, I could not help but see that the Captain’s daughter is pleasing to look upon. I should be glad to know her, were there no objections.”
“How? His daughter?”
“Miss Rachael, I believe. That is the name he used.”
“The young one, you mean?”
“Yes, sir. The one who served me with breakfast. Rosy-cheeked and plump.”
“Whoa, man! She’s his wife, and not for Gentiles. They’re both his wives; whether he has more in Utah I don’t know. But you’d best let her alone. She’s been j’ined to him.” 161
This took me all aback, for I had no other idea than that she was his daughter, or niece—stood in that kind of relation to him. He was twice her age, apparently. Now I could only stammer:
“I’ve no wish to intrude, you may be sure. And Daniel, his son—is he married?”
“That whelp? Met him, did you? No, he ain’t married, yet. But he will be, soon as he takes his pick ’cordin’ to law and gospel among them people. You bet you: he’ll be married plenty.”