"Luella, it can't be true! Where was John?"
"I don't know, Emily dear." Luella's tone now changed to one of complete satisfaction at desired results. "He must have been somewhere near and found it out. I always said Venna has her mother's impulsiveness. Of course, she didn't mean any harm—but think what might have come of it. Those Mormon preachers are in the East for only one purpose. You know that, Emily. Just to entice pretty girls like Venna to go to Utah to their destruction, and they use the cloak of religion, too! More's the shame. I'm so thankful the child is safe."
Emily's color had returned and burned each cheek.
"I'm sure, Luella, you are mistaken. I shall bring Venna here to tell you so," and Emily sailed from the room with a majestic disdain, quite uncommon to her quiet, even composure.
Gently she opened Venna's door.
"Should she awaken her? No, Luella must be crazy!" she thought disdainfully. Yet it might be true. Venna was so impulsive. However, there was no harm done. Venna was safe—she must be talked to, of course.
So quietly she closed the door and went back to the library.
"Venna is sleeping," she said, her mild self again. "Thank you, Luella, for telling me. I shall speak to John about it."
"Oh, I wish I could advise the dear girl myself!" Luella returned disappointed.
"I can't disturb her. These are very busy days in her young life."