"Yes; that's right."
"So you consent?"
"I didn't say that."
"You must. I'm of age anyway, and could do it without your consent; but I don't want to. I want your blessing instead of your disapproval on such an important step."
"Could she stand the ordeal, do you think?" asked the father of Chester.
"In a few days when she gets a little stronger—yes."
"Well, let's walk a bit. You two go ahead. I must think."
The two did as they were told nor looked back. The one was not thinking clearly and logically, so much as he was fighting over the eternal warfare of conviction against policy. He also knew. He had received more of a testimony than he ever admitted, even to himself. If he should do as his innermost conscience told him, he also would join Lucy in baptism of water for the remission of sins; but that thought he pushed from him. He, an old man in the ministry, to now change his faith—to cut himself off from his life's work—no, that would never do. It was different with Lucy, quite another thing. She had set her heart on it and on Chester, and it would be best for her—yes, it would be best for her.
When Chester was saying good-night to Lucy that evening, the father came out into the hall to them.
"Chester," said he, "tell Elder Malby I should like to see him to morrow. He is the one that attends to baptism into the Mormon Church, isn't he?"