Joel Rae had torn open the big blue envelope in a sudden fear, and now he read in Brigham’s well-known script:—
“DEAR BROT. JOEL:—
“I was ancus to see more of your daughter, and would of kept her hear at my house if you had not hurried off. I will let you seal her to me when I come to Pine valle next, late this summer or after Oct. conference. If anything happens and I am to bisy will have you bring her hear. Tell her of this and what it will mean to her in the Lord’s kingdom and do not let her company with gentiles or with any of the young brethren around there that might put Notions into her head. Try to due right and never faint in well duing, keep the faith of the gospel and I pray the Lord to bless you. BRIGHAM YOUNG.”
The shrewd old face of the Bishop had wrinkled into a smile of quiet observation as the other read the letter. In relating the incident to the Entablature of Truth subsequently, he said of Joel Rae at the moment he looked up from this letter: “He’ll never be whiter when he’s dead! I see in a minute that the old man had him on the bark.”
“You know what’s in this, Brother Seth—you know that Brigham wants Prudence?” Joel Rae had asked, looking up from the letter, upon which both his hands had closed tightly.
“Well, I told you he dropped a word or two, jest by way of keeping off the Princes of Israel down here.”
“I must go to Salt Lake at once and talk to him.”
“Take her along; likely he’ll marry her right off.”
“But I can’t—I couldn’t—Brother Seth, I wish her not to marry him.”
The Bishop stared blankly at him, his amazement freezing upon his lips, almost, the words he uttered.