“Nonsense,” said the man, throwing a glance around the recess.  “There’s nobody here but you and I. We are alone together, as we shall be hereafter, when we have taken the step.”

“But that child,” whispered the woman, “with his strange vesture and his wonderful face.  His eyes look at me so.”

“There is no child there, my dear,” urged the man; “you are overwrought, excited, nervous.  The music starts.  Let us go.”

He stretched out his hand to the woman, but as he came nearer she shrank back with her own hand on her heart.

“Oh,” she said faintly, “he’s gone.”

“Of course he’s gone,” he answered soothingly.  “Now is our time to get away.  Let me—­”

“No, no,” said the woman.  “I can’t go with you now.  It wouldn’t be right.”

“But you knew that before,” pleaded the man.  “Besides—­”

“Yes, but I can’t do it.  He was there!  His eyes spoke—­I—­don’t touch me,” she said; “I’m going back to my husband.  Don’t follow.”

II

The Child

“Suffer the little children to come unto me”

II

The Child

The employees had all gone home, carrying with them Christmas checks and hearty greetings from the great man whose beck and nod they followed.  He sat in his private office absolutely alone.  He had some serious matters to consider and did not want any interruptions.  His balance-sheet for the year had been made up according to the custom of the firm before Christmas instead of on New Year’s Day.  He examined it again.  It showed tremendous profit.  The mills were turning out quantities of material, the demand for which was greater and the cost of production less than ever before.

“I tell you,” said the man to himself, “it was a master-stroke to displace the men with children in the mills.  They have reduced the cost by four fifths.  War has made the prices go up.  This is not wealth, it is riches beyond calculation.”

He picked up a letter, read it over.  It was a proposal from the superintendent to clear more land, to build more buildings, to install more machines, to employ more children and increase the profits greatly.

“I’ll do it,” said the man.  “We can crush opposition absolutely.  I’ll control the markets of the world.  I’ll build a fortune upon this foundation so great that no one can comprehend it.”

He stopped, leaned back in his chair, lifted his eyes up toward the ceiling of the room and saw beyond it the kingdoms of this world and the means unlimited to make him lord and master.  He gave no thought to the foundations, only to the structure erected by his fancy.  How long he indulged in dreams he scarcely realized, but presently he put his hands on the arms of the chair and started to rise, saying,