elevantly.

"Life too, I'm afraid," said Jenny.

"Yes, indeed, life too," assented Theophil, dreamily.

"If I were to die," said Jenny, suddenly, "would you still do what we
said?"

"Why do you ask that, dear? You're a very serious little woman this
morning. Of course I would. You know. But why do you ask me now?"

"Oh, only, dear, because I wonder whether we really ought to. Somehow
Isabel's visit has made me feel that life is a bigger, fuller thing than
I had dreamed, and that men like you, at all events, have duties towards
it even greater than your love for a little thing like me."

"Jenny dear, don't talk like that. Why should you? You don't surely
doubt my love!"

"Of course not, Theophil. It was only my silly little brain thinking
for once in a while,--and I don't mean to be unkind, but really I rather
mean it. Are you still quite sure there is nothing in the world more
important than love?"

"Quite sure," he answered; "surer than ever--if that were possible. You
are not beginning to doubt that? Certainly it is a silly little brain,
if that's what its thinking is coming to."

"I don't mean it for myself. Little women have nothing but love to think
of; but great men, men with a mission in the world ..."

"Please, Jenny!"

"Well, dear, I mean it; and I sometimes think that perhaps, perhaps, I'm
hindering your life; that if you were to be bothered with love at all,
you should have married some clever, wonderful woman,--woman, say,
like Isabel."

"Jenny!"

"Of course, dear, I know you don't think so," she continued; and he
realised that it was all artless accident on her part--"Still I cannot
help thinking it for you sometimes, dear, and sometimes I feel very
selfish to have your love,--as though, so to say, I was wearing someone
else's crown."

"Jenny dear, will you promise never to talk like that again? A clever
woman! To be a woman is to be a genius, but to be a clever woman is to
be another man of talent."

"That wouldn't be fair to Isabel."

"No," assented Theophil, "Isabel is different too."

And that brought them to Theophil's office and good-bye till the
evening.

For the evening there had been fixed an important church meeting, the
first annual business meeting of minister and deacons since Londonderry
had come to New Zion. It was an occasion of jubilation all round,
particularly for Mr. Moggridge, who gave voice to New Zion's general
satisfaction, you may be sure, in no uncertain te