"Distance is such a silly thing," went on Jenny. "It seems to have been invented just to separate those who want to be together. It seems so arbitrary, so unnecessary." "I suppose death is a form of distance," said Theophil, irrelevantly. "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 terms of praise. 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.