"I tho't a big game ought ter hev a big word. Well, there's goin' ter be a show down o' feeling."
"Oh, you mean demonstration. I see—well, a demonstration of what feeling. Bud?"
"Feeling agin the Mormon fellers! Outside yer house ter night! I overheard Mister Allworth talking wi' Miss Harriet. I'll never like a minister again! Nasty, mean, isn't it?"
Venna looked serious. "Tell me everything you heard, Bud."
"Heard only words now an' then. I almost fell off the roof a' listenin'. Mother'll paddle me if she finds me here. Must be goin'. This house is got an awful name—all for nuthin', jes 'cause angels like you ain't the style no more."
Venna put her arms around Bud and hugged him close.
"You blessed lambie—if all the world were as fair as you!" she exclaimed, kissing both his round cheeks, much to Bud's pleasure.
"Run along now, dear. Don't get in trouble about us. You're good to warn us—we'll be prepared? Sugar cookies in the kitchen, you know!"
When Bud left her, Venna stood for a moment in troubled thought. "Is it possible that Christians can do these things to those who love the same God?" she asked, for the first time coming in conflict with the religious intolerance of the day. She had blissfully imagined that religious intolerance was a thing of the past. But Venna was only upon the threshold of religious experience.