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. "Mr. Londonderry," said Mr. Moggridge, by way of changing the subject, and warmly grasping the young man's hand, "New Zion's proud of you, sir--and so is Eli Moggridge." And that moment would have been as good for all three, even without the fifty-pound note. CHAPTER XIV THE GREAT EVENT OF MR. TALBOT'S LIFE I realize that any attempt henceforth to enchain the reader's interest with church meetings, or the like enthralments, will be more than hopeless. That is the worst of allowing love to creep into one's story. He insists on having the stage to himself, and in that determination the audience is entirely with him. Previously you may have been interested in all kinds of peaceable, unexciting things, far more good for you, but enter love, and all the rest is suddenly fallen tame beyond endurance. It is of no use to urge that life's bill of the play includes many hardly less brilliant and attractive performers. They are all well enough in their way, till the eternal Paganini is there with his old fiddle once more at his shoulder; then there is an end of all seriousness, or a beginning, as you please. Well, I'll do my best to get over the six months between March and October as quickly as possible; and, indeed, it will not be very difficult, after all, for very little happened, to speak of, during that time to any of the chief actors engaged in making this history. Perhaps it was this consideration that prompted old Mr. Talbot--O, bother old Mr. Talbot!--that prompted old Mr. Talbot, I say, to take the important step of dying, when, poor old man! his death would give the least possible trouble. There seemed as little reason for his dying as there had seemed for his living, for as far as anyone knew there was nothing the matter with him, except an extreme sleepiness of an evening, which was but natural in an old weary man who still kept at his stone-masonry though he was full seventy. Night after night, for some weeks, he had been getting sleepier and sleepier.