Fortune at work chooses her a fine-edged instrument, and Joseph Smith, with unerring but probably half conscious instinct, had sent the right messenger.

The cloud of serious intent on the youth's face broke now into a sudden admiring glance, half playful yet fully earnest.

His gray eyes held for a moment gracious parley with hers.

"Wilt thou," he asked, still smiling, "give it as excuse in the day of judgment that they would not let thee think ?" "N-n-no." She was more struck with the inadequacy of the excuse than with the fact that she had a better one if she had chosen to give it.
He was again grave, but he was not now unappreciative.

"Thou art very fair, and beauty to a young woman is, no doubt, a great snare.