Virginia could see a woman only here and there. She seemed almost alone, surrounded by men, representing New York’s material wealth, its selfishness, its gambling, crazy wealth. But interwoven in it also was that indefinite energizing of forces that were not all self-seeking, but money-loving men at the heart of the greatest of cities, in front of a building representing in its structure patriotism and money.

And up there at the base of the pedestal, he stood. He was holding in his arms a little girl not three years old. The look on his face spelled command. The smile on his lips suggested infinite power and the strength that exercises it in love.

The little girl was looking up at him, one hand resting, with perfect confidence, on Jesus’ shoulder. In the other hand, between her little fingers, she held a small wreath of artificial flowers.

Eight

Chapter Eight

Four hours later, Virginia and Stanton were in their room at the hotel. When they were seated, they looked at each other with glad but awestruck faces.

“What an astonishing scene!” Virginia said in a serene tone. “Now we can understand a little better the great crowds that thronged him when he was here before.”

“Yes, and what tremendous power he had over all the people. Did you notice the people while he was talking?”

“No, I was too fascinated watching him and the little girl. It seemed to me we were standing at the very judgment day.”

“Virginia, we were. It was a judgment day for New York, and for every other money-loving, material-worshipping city. What he said and did must have burned into the heart and mind of every person there. Did you notice Jasper Carter?”

“No. Was he there?”

“Yes, and he bore the same look on his face we noticed the day of the mob. It was the look of a man who is afraid, and at the same time enraged, in the presence of a virtue and a sinlessness he cannot understand or destroy. I could not help thinking, whenever I caught a glimpse of his face, that the old Pharisees and scribes must have been like him.”

“I did not see him,” murmured Virginia thoughtfully. “I was fascinated with Jesus. What a voice! What a message! What compassion and what stern indignation against selfishness and wrong!”

“Men’s faces went white when he lifted up the child. Ah! It was a sight not to be seen twice in an age. It will stay with us always. I am eager to write the account of it to Mr. Maxwell.”

“And I to Rachel. Shall we do that now while our hearts are full of joy?”

“Yes. It will be good for them in Raymond to hear of it. Of course, the papers will have accounts, but we know how they so often exaggerate and color it.”

“Richard, do you think anyone could exaggerate that scene?”