This was quite true, for at that time the word Polygamy was as seldom used as the word “polyandry,” or any other word signifying a state of things with which we have nothing to do.
“I’m not offended,” she said; “only people have a way of treating me as if I were only such a very little girl: I suppose I look so.”
She certainly did look so, and I suppose she read my thoughts. Womanhood, by-and-by, brought to her more of reality, both in face and figure, as well as in the terrible facts of life; but at that time the term “little fairy,” which I have so often used respecting her, seemed the most appropriate. The meaning of that terrible word Polygamy she understood, in later years, fully as well as I did.
“Well, dear,” I said, “why did you ask me that strange question?”
“You must promise not to be angry with me if I tell you,” she answered; “and yet I think you ought to know.”
I readily promised—what could I have refused her?—and she said,—
“The other day two of the sisters were at our house—I may not tell you their names for fear of making mischief—and they were talking together between themselves, and did not notice that I was present—or else they didn’t care. And I heard one of them tell the other, that she had heard, secretly, that in Zion men were allowed to have many wives; and she used that word Polygamy very often, and said that was what the people of the world called it.”
“Well, Mary dear,” I replied, “that is no great secret. We have all heard that said before. Wicked people who hate the Gospel say that, and a great deal more, in order to bring scandal upon the Church; but of course it isn’t true.”
“Ah, but I haven’t told you all,” she said. “The sisters had a long talk about it, and they explained whom they heard it from, and it was from no one outside the Church. And then one of them said that Elder Stenhouse had heard all about it, and knew it was true, only of course he did not talk about such things yet; but that the time would come when everyone would acknowledge it, and all the Saints would have many wives. I was frightened when I heard this, and very angry—for I thought of you—and I spoke to her, and said it was all untrue, and I’d ask Elder Stenhouse. And they scolded me very much for saying so, and said it was very wicked for a child to listen; and that was why I did not like you to call me ‘child.’”
“Well, darling,” I said, “I’ll not offend you any more in that way; and it was very good of you to tell me anything you thought I ought to know.” Then I kissed her, and continued, “But, after all, I don’t think it’s of any consequence. It’s the old scandal, just as in the early days they said wicked things of Christ and His apostles. Elder Stenhouse knows all that people say, but he has told me again and again that there is not a word of truth in it; and I believe him.”