"Brother Stevens, why don't you court one of those girls and marry her yourself? The best way to drive out evil is by introducing good in its place. Women and men both desire to love and be loved; and I sometimes think our Elders will be held responsible for the loss of our girls, if they make no effort to give them a love worthy and pure." The conference was ended, and John felt the whole burden had been flung back on his shoulders. Well, he was strong and willing; he was no coward, either. But how could he do the impossible? XXIV. ELLIE'S SECOND WARNING The two girls avoided John all the next day, for with feminine instinct they divined their case would come up for grave consideration, and neither cared to be questioned or chastised. When this startling incident came to the ears of Aunt Clara Tyler, she buckled on her aggressive armor of righteousness, but like the tactful soul she was, she drew over her steel coat the soft velvet robe of tender sympathy and bided her time. Two nights after Dian's encounter, the girls were out at a neighboring party. Returning somewhat late, Aunt Clara's watchful ears heard them call out their merry good-nights to their companions, and the psychological moment was upon them. The girls found her busy at their own wagon-box bedroom, and they were glad for a pair of sympathetic ears in which to pour out the story of "what he said" and "she said" with the evening's trivial happenings, all of such moment to young, fresh hearts. "How good it is to get a word with you, Auntie," cooed Ellen, "you are off so much with the sick that I don't get a chance to hug you once a week." Joining in their merry chatter, the two girls sitting cross-legged on their narrow bed, their mentor sat on the stool at the front end of the box, and gently led them into deep conversational waters. "These brilliant men of the world do know how to say pretty things, don't they?" said Ellen, after Dian had related the river incident, in her own candid fashion. "And he never said a rude word or did an offensive thing," finished Dian. "Good manners, my dear, are only the real or the assumed expression of a truly unselfish soul. Tact is like charity--it sometimes covers a multitude of sins." Ellen sat silent while this talk went on; Aunt Clara noted it and drew her own shrewd conclusions. "Well, why must this sweet and gentle courtesy belong only to men who are not good, Aunt Clara?" continued Dian. "It mustn't, and yet it too often does. Pioneer life in every country leaves very little time for young men especially to cultivate the amenities of life. Aren't our leaders courteous, and can you find lovelier ladies than Sister Eliza R. Snow and Zina D. Young? Our girls are as crude in much of their behavior as are our boys. First the marble must be hewn out, then comes the polish." "I love the polish," murmured Ellen. And Dian added frankly: "So do I! The rocks in the hillside are ugly!"