"Come," she continued, after a pause. "Can't you give it up? I know it's a lot to do when one's used to it. But you'll feel better in the end and your wife will be better right away and the children, and it won't be blacklegging on those who're trying to make things better. No matter how poor he is if a man's sober he's a man, while if he drinks, no matter if he's got millions, he's a brute."
"You never drink anything, Miss Lawton, do you?" asked Mr. Hobbs, swinging the door.
"I never touched it in my life," said Nellie.
"Do you really think you're better for it?"
"I think it has kept me straight," said Nellie, earnestly. "I wouldn't touch a drop to save my life. Some people call us who don't drink fools just because a few humbugs make temperance a piece of cant. I think those who get drunk are fools or who drink when there's a prospect of themselves or those they drink with getting drunk. Drink makes a man an empty braggart or a contented fool. It makes him heartless not only to others but to himself."
There was another pause.
"If you won't for the sake of your wife and your children and yourself and everybody, will you do it to please me?" asked Nellie, who knew that Mr. Hobbs regarded her as the one perfect woman in Australia and, woman-like, was prepared to take advantage thereof.
"You know, Miss Lawton, I'm not one of the fellows who swear off Monday mornings and get on the spree the next Saturday night. If I say I'll turn temperance I'll turn." So quoth the sturdy Hobbs.
"I know that. If you were the other sort do you think I'd be bothering you?" retorted Nellie.
"Well, I'll do it," said Mr. Hobbs. "So help me——"