ot in life; but there are not many boys such as I was
who find little blue-eyed maidens to bring precious little Bible cards
to them, and so write lessons on their hearts that will tell for all
time--yes, and for all eternity."

"There are not many Dr. Birges and Mr. Stephenses," said Dora,
emphatically. And Theodore's response was quite as emphatic:

"Very few indeed! If there were only _more_. But, Dora, isn't it a grand
enterprise? Let us go in. I have always intended to go through the
mission; but, you see, I waited for _you_."

They went up the broad, pleasant flight of steps. The children, hundreds
of them, were at dinner. Such an array of clean, and, for the most part,
pleasant faces! Such a wonderful dinner as it must have been to them!
Dora's face glowed and her eyes sparkled as she watched them. Then they
all went together to the great, light, pleasant chapel, with its hanging
baskets, and its white flower urns, and its creeping vines, and fragrant
blossoms; its grand piano on the platform as perfect in finish and as
sweet of tone as if it were designed to chime with the voices of more
favored childhood. Dora's bright eye took in the scene in all its
details with great delight and satisfaction, but she did not feel the
solemn undertone of thanksgiving that rang in Theodore's heart. How
could she? What did she know in detail of the contrast between the
present and the past lives of these children? And who knew better than
he the awful scenes from which they had been rescued! How they marched
to the sound of the quickstepping music! How their voices rang out in
songs such as the angels might have loved to join! It was a sort of
jubilee day with them, and there were many visitors and many speeches,
and much entertainment. As he looked and listened, Theodore had
constantly to brush away the starting tears. Presently Mr. Foote came
with brisk step and smiling face toward the spot where Theodore and his
wife were sitting.

"You are interested in the children, I know, sir," he said, confidently.
"Come forward please, and give us a brief speech. The children will like
to hear one who shows his love for them beaming in his face."

Theodore answered promptly:

"No, sir, I will not detain them; they have had speeches enough.
Besides, my heart is quite too full for talking." At the same time he
arose. "I would like to write my speech, though, if you please, sir.
Have you pen and ink convenient?" And he went forward