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372 the church, but ridicule is even worse than bad cooking. There were times when he even doubted the divine origin of plural marriage. Surely, never was a great man so flouted by the weaker vessel—nor by three of them—before.

The Apostle was in a fair way to become a misanthrope. He kicked the dog and snubbed his humbler brethren in Zion in a way that threatened to seriously undermine his popularity. He even caught himself profanely wishing that the All-seeing Eye over the "Holiness to the Lord" on the store fronts of the faithful might be utilized to regulate the affairs of his own household.

He began to think more favorably of the one untried means of curbing refractory wives. To strike a woman—a month ago the Apostle would have declared it infamous, but now—well—really, it seemed the only course open.

Then intruded the troublesome question, "Upon whom should the punishment fall?" Joan, of course, was the real culprit, but the vision of her lithe form and bewitching face that rose before him settled her fate—you cannot strike Hebe.

Well, then, Sarah Mary or Christine, which? They both really deserved it; here the Apostle's face hardened; but suppose he should bring them to their senses, there was still Joan unconquered. Was there no way of making her suffer by proxy?

Here the Apostle was seized with a most unlovely idea. Joan loved Mother Evelyn. Suppose the chastening should fall upon her? It would certainly show Joan the folly of her course as nothing else could. It would be something of a flank movement too. Still,—the Apostle winced at the thought,—it would soon be twenty-eight years since that night when, back among the Vermont hills, he had looked into Evelyn Wright's blue eyes and had whispered in a voice a trifle unsteady in its earnestness, "I would give my life to make you happy, dear."

The words were spoken on the eve of their wedding. They came back to him with tormenting force on his second wedding eve; but he was braver now, and allowed no such early indiscretions of speech or feeling to annoy him. Nor should we blame the doughty Apostle too severely. Then he might have died for her had it been necessary. But now—well, you know, years make a difference.

He need not really hurt her; it could be made a mere farce—the point was to have Joanna consider it a tragedy. The partitions were thin. Evelyn would be sure to shriek at the suggestion of a blow, which would bring the others to the scene, and it was more than probable that he could make terms with Joan without anything further. So he put aside his scruples and laid his plans astutely.

But alas! "the best-laid schemes … gang aft a-gley." It is well known that the female character is erratic, and even so experienced