now, and if it could be imagined that he might some day be asked to
choose between his ambition and Jenny, he could honestly have answered
from his soul, "Give me Jenny."

Whoever thinks this an easily natural answer to make, may know something
about love, but evidently knows little about ambition. Still, life
seldom sets us such silly examination questions as that, and need one
say that that question was never put to Jenny's lover? He was far too
proud of the woman he had made of that little measure of porcelain and
that handful of stars.




CHAPTER XII


HOW THE RENAISSANCE CAME IN PERSON TO NEW ZION

The winter months had gone by; all but one of those incendiary lectures
had been given, not without storm and tempest; "The Dawn" still came up
each week with anger and singing, and the first year of Londonderry's
ministry at New Zion neared its close. The lecture season was presently
to end, on the last Friday in March, with a concert which was to include
a series of recitations by a lady-reciter from London. Londonderry had
written to a lecture agency for the name of a likely reciter, man or
woman, and they had sent him the name of Isabel Strange.

On the occasion of the last lecture, Mr. Moggridge had not been
satisfied with the colour of the platform. It wanted repainting, and I