New Zion was, indeed, _New_ Zion once more, he said, thanks to their
indefatigable young pastor,--a play on words which was received with the
applause due to so unmistakable a union of wit and truth.

Nor did the proceedings result in mere compliments. The church found
itself rich enough to increase its minister's stipend; and when Theophil
took Mr. Moggridge back to supper, another surprise awaited him, in the
form of a suspicious-looking letter, which, being opened, revealed a
quite unexceptionable £50 note, enclosed in a sheet of note-paper, on
which was written--"From never mind who."

The writing was unknown to Londonderry, but there could be only one
culprit.

"Of course, Mr. Moggridge, this is from you. Really ..."

"No, sir, indeed; you make a mistake there," protested Moggridge, lying
badly, and growing purple.

"Who do _you_ suspect, Jenny?"

"Why, of course, it's Mr. Moggridge!"

"Mr. Moggridge!" exclaimed Jenny impulsively, throwing her arms round
Mr. Moggridge's surprised shoulders, and kissing him somewhere in his
whiskers,--"Mr. Moggridge! you are the dearest, kindest man in the
world!"

And Jenny was not far wrong.