re, is about to give up the chase when he finds out that the
denomination does not condemn dancing.

"Ah, now," he says, "I have you."

He goes to one of the most fashionable dancing schools, where he is well
known, and explains his difficulties to the dancing master, who is ever
ready to take part in just such dirty work, for it is from the pay for
such work that he derives much of the profit of his school.

He sends her a highly colored, gilt-edged card containing a pressing
invitation to attend his _select_ school.

She does not respond, so he finally sends his wife to press the
invitation. The girl, not dreaming of the net that is being woven about
her, promises that if her pastor does not disapprove she will attend.
Her pastor _does not disapprove_. He tells her that he sees no harm in
dancing.

Why does he not see harm in dancing? Has he never been where he _could_
see?

She takes it for granted that he _knows_, and acting on his advice
attends the school. She is met at the door by the dancing master, who is
very polite and so kindly attentive.

The society man who is plotting her ruin is the first person presented
to her. He is a graceful dancer and makes the evening pass pleasantly
for her, by his kind attentions and praise of her grace in dancing, and
when the school is dismissed he escorts her home, which courtesy she
accepts, because the dancing master vouches for him, and she thinks that
is sufficient. He continues his attentions, and finally invites her to
attend, with him, a grand full dress ball to be given at one of the
principal hotels. She has never attended a grand ball in her life, and
looks forward to this with the greatest pleasure.

The evening at last arrives. Her escort calls for her in an elegant
carriage. She looks more beautiful than ever in her pretty, modest
evening dress, and he says to himself, "Ah, my Greek Goddess, I shall
have the 'belle of the ball' for my victim to-night."

As they enter the ball-room she is quite charmed and dazzled by its
splendor and the gaiety of the scene, which is so novel to her.

During the first of the evening her companion finds her more reserved
than is to his taste, but he says to himself, only wait, my fair one,
until supper time, and the wine will do the work desired.

Twelve o'clock at last comes, and with it the summons to the supper
room. Here the well-spread table, the brilliant lights, the flowers, the
music and the gay conversation ar