"Say, Hu," Theodora asked abruptly, one night; "wouldn't it be funny if Archie married Hope?" Hubert stopped whistling and stared at his sister in surprise. "What an idea, Ted! Your brain must be 'way off, to think of such a thing." "Stranger things than that have happened, Hu," Theodora said shrewdly. "Just wait a few years and see." "Archie's no fusser," Hubert said, with some scorn. "Maybe not; but he likes Hope, and she thinks he is perfect. Of course, they won't do it yet, but they may in time. Here we are. Come in." For the first time in their lives, the twins were on their way to a temperance meeting. Dr. McAlister had always felt that such meetings were no place for impressionable children, that the sensational methods of oratory were not for young ears; and Hubert and Theodora had experienced some difficulty in coaxing their father to give his consent to their hearing a famous young Irish orator who was holding a series of meetings in the town. It was a new experience for Theodora, who, from the first moment, was swayed to and fro at the speaker's will, now laughing at his broad humor, now winking away her tears at his pathos, now thrilling through all her lithe young body at his stirring appeals for help to raise the drink-sodden world around him. Hubert was more sceptical. "What a fib!" he remarked, at the close of the story which ended the lecture. "I know things never happened as pat as that. They don't, out of books, I bet. What are you going to do, Ted?" Theodora, her face flushed and her eyes like stars, had started forward to the stage. "I'm going to sign the pledge, Hu." "What for? You don't get drunk." "For my example. Oh, Hu, think of the saloons in the east end of town! And we've never done anything to help them! It's terrible." She came back to him with her hands full of pamphlets. Hubert eyed her askance. "I say, Ted, what are those?" "Tracts." "What for?" "I am going to take them to some of those people, to-morrow. It may wake them up to what they are doing." "They're more likely to wake you up, Ted. Go easy. You know papa never will let you." "I sha'n't ask him, then," she said proudly. "If it's right, it's right, and nobody ought to stop me." Hubert whistled softly. "Look out, Ted. Remember the kid you stole? This may come out as your slumming did, you know." But Theodora started out, the next morning, the tracts in her hand and zeal in her heart. At the very first saloon, she was doomed to disillusion. "It is a wicked life," she said firmly; "and you ought to be ashamed." For a wonder, the man knew neither Dr. McAlister nor his daughter, and he was not moved to awe by this child. "Do you think it is any of your business, my fine lady?" he demanded sharply. Theodora quailed. "N-n-no-o-o-o; I don't," she said faintly, and fled from the door into the arms of her father, who chanced to be passing by. "Theodora!" he exclaimed.