“I doubt it. But never mind that, Barnes. I’m going to New York in two or three weeks to attend the national Editorial Convention, as you know. May be gone a week. Marks will be in charge here. If I see anything of your Jesus, I will wire.”

He parted with Barnes, sneering in his rough fashion, and Barnes, whose Christian discipleship did not mean perfection yet, replied, “Mr. Carter, I may find it impossible to stay on the Gazette. I may have to leave while you are gone.”

“You can leave any time,” Carter retorted. “You may remember, I told you that you could stay until I proved to you that the whole thing was a sham. Now that it is proved, I don’t see why you have to quit.”

Barnes made no answer to this, but he went home depressed and sorrowful, his heart heavy, grieving for the unaccountable silence of his Lord and Master. Where could he be? Why was he not overturning wickedness, comforting his disciples, inspiring the world with his presence as he had so wonderfully begun to do? Where was he? Surely his mission was not fulfilled in the appearances he had so far made.

Mr. Maxwell and Stanton were going over the same matter one day after a church meeting where many of the old pledge-takers had been present. The meeting had closed with many beseeching prayers that Jesus might return.

“He will, in his own good time, I am sure,” Maxwell said.

Stanton was also firm in his belief, as well as Powers and others, but the church workers could not account for Jesus’s absence and silence.

Stanton lingered in the church study to consult with Mr. Maxwell about his approaching marriage to Virginia. “Of course, we wish to avoid all just criticism of apparent haste. But Virginia is thirty-four, and I am forty. We seem to have known each other always.”

“My dear fellow, I am ready to perform the ceremony for you any time,” Mr. Maxwell said, smiling. “You need not fear any hostile criticism from Raymond people. They all love you and are really interested in your romance. I think it will disappoint many of them if you and Virginia don’t get married soon.”

Stanton laughed happily. He went over to see Virginia that evening, and two weeks from that same day they were married, with a few of Virginia’s old-time church and settlement friends present.

“You don’t have to tell us where you are going with the two weeks’ vacation the church granted you,” said Mr. Maxwell after the ceremony, as he and the bride and groom were for a moment together.

Stanton looked at Virginia. “We are willing to tell you, aren’t we, Mrs. Stanton?”

“Yes,” Virginia said, out of her eyes shining the perfect love light of perfect trust in her husband. “Mr. Maxwell ought to know.”