“Yes!”

“Tell me what about it impresses you most.”

“The two little faces.”

“Oh! and I love them most, too. Perhaps you have never heard the romance, the miracle of that window.”

“Romance? Miracle?”

“It is a memorial to Agnes Vandilever, erected by her husband.”

“Yes, I know. But the romance?”

“The artist who designed it, though he had never seen or heard of her child, accidentally made the two faces portraits of that child. If she had posed for him, they could not have been nearer perfect. That’s why her father selected the design over the dozens submitted.”

“That I had heard.”

“But the romance is this: the little girl is now grown, and one of the richest girls in the world—are you listening?”

“Yes,” said King, whose gaze had returned to the two little faces. “You were saying she is rich—one of the world’s richest girls. I know that. A century though lies between her and the little ones yonder. She can never dream back to them. I was thinking of that.”

“Wait! No man ever knows all that’s in a girl’s heart. Early in life when she was just a little child as pictured yonder, she was the victim of a ferry boat collision off Cortlandt Street. My old lady friend—the one I live with—is her relative. I have seen Miss Vandilever many times, and have often read her story in some old newspapers. She was but eight years old when the accident occurred, and in the care of an old negro nurse on the boat. The family were on their way up from the South, and the little girl and her nurse had gone out of the cabin to the deck to see the lights. When the collision occurred, both were thrown into the river. In the confusion of the moment and noise of whistles and the screams, the minor accident was not noticed nor were the cries of the woman and child heard except by one person, a boy of sixteen or seventeen, who was also out to see the lights, and probably New York for the first time. This boy plunged into the river from the sinking boat and succeeded in reaching the little girl. Then—how, only the good God who was watching, knows—he got 

 Prev. P 19/39 next