"Who's starved, ma'am? Have they come home early and nothing to eat in the city—that's no sense, sure," returned Stella, bustling about nervously.
"No, no, Stella. They haven't come home yet. It's two young men preaching throughout this wicked country of ours—just think, Stella! Preaching! Trying to save souls, and they're practically starving. They'll be down in a few minutes and we'll feed them well!"
Crash went a plate! Venna turned to see Stella standing, a picture of sudden fear, pale as death.
"You—don't—mean—the Mormons—are in—this house?" she gasped.
"Why, Stella! What on earth has frightened you. Of course, I do."
"O ma'am, last night at the party, everybody's man or maid was informed about those awful men. Aren't you afraid? I'll never sleep under the same roof with them, ma'am, that I won't. What will Mrs. Halloway say?"
"Look here, Stella, I'll have to tell you what I told Bud. I know one of these men. It's all talk. They're awfully good. Now hasten to prepare for my friends."
Stella's color gradually returned. "Are you sure, ma'am? Of course, if you've known them before I won't listen to others—but it's awful strange business, ma'am, it is—yes, I'm not glad they're here. Won't they go, ma'am?"
"Not if I wish them to stay!" replied Venna with dignity.
Stella always knew what that tone meant and in silence set the table lavishly. However, within her, there were throbbings of her poor heart that she had never experienced before and strange sensations of unusual chills crept up and down her being.