“Young man,” said he, with his clear, frank voice, “a noble woman like my Ellen betters every true man. There strikes nine. A pleasant church-clock that! I gave it to ’em. Now you’re well tired of my talk, I dare say. Come, Ellen will have all she has missed when she sees you and your friend. Many times she has told me of that ride of yours. Many times she has cried, as a woman only cries for one loss, when she told me how day after day she waited to hear from you, and had never heard.”
“She wrote?”
“Repeatedly.”
“We never heard.”
“Her father took her letters from her to post.”
“And kept them or destroyed them for some crazy suspicion.”
“She dreaded you might have been chased and cut off by the Mormons. She would not believe that you had forgotten her.”
“Forgotten! Come, I’ll follow you.”