"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 terms of praise.