From the Ball-Room to Hell | Page 7

popular society gentlemen
and ball-room devotees, and we hear him mutter to himself as he stares
impudently at her pretty face: "Ah, my beauty, I shall locate your
dwelling place later on. You are too fine a bird to be lost sight of."
He follows her to her lodging, and day by day studies her habits.
He discovers that she goes nowhere except to her daily toil and to
church. He visits the church, and finding no opportunity to approach
her there, 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 are all sources of the greatest pleasure
to the unaccustomed girl, but there is one thing which does not please
her. It is the fact that wine is flowing freely and that all are partaking of
it. She feels that she can never consent to drink. It is something she has
never done in her life. Yet she dares not refuse, for all the others are
drinking, and she knows that to refuse would bring upon herself the
ridicule of all the party.

She hears her companion order a bottle of wine opened. He pours and
offers it, saying, "Just a social glass, it will refresh you." She looks at
him as if to protest, but he returns the gaze and hands her the fatal glass,
and she has not the moral courage to say no.
As they raise their glasses he murmurs softly, "Here's hoping we may
be perfectly happy in each other's love, and that the cup of bliss now
raised to our lips may never spill."
One glass and then another and the brain unaccustomed to wine is
whirling and giddy. The vile wretch sees that his game is won.
He whispers in her ear many soft and foolish lies, tells her that he loves
her, and that if she can return that love, he is hers, and hers alone, so
long as life shall last.
She sits tipped back in one chair, with her feet in another, laughs loudly
at every poor little joke, and responds, in a silly affectionate manner, to
all his words of love, and when he makes proposals to which she would