From the Ball-Room to Hell | Page 8

T.A. Faulkner

have scorned to listen at any other time, she not only listens but gives
consent to all, and does not leave the house that night.
When she awakens next morning, it is in a strange room. Her head
whirls, she gazes abstractedly about her and tries to shake off what
seems to her to be a horrid dream, but she is brought suddenly to
realize that it is no sleeping fancy, but a steam reality, as a low voice by
her side says,
"Did you rest easy, my dear?"
"My God!" she fairly shrieks, as the awful truth bursts upon her, "is it
possible, or am I dreaming?" and she passes her hand wildly across her
face.
"Do not excite yourself, my dear; you are not well. You will feel better
presently."
"Better!" she cries, bursting into tears. "Better!! What is life to me now

that you have robbed me of my virtue? Oh! that I should have sunken
into such depths of sin, and that you, vile man, whom I trusted, should
have led me to it."
She tries to rise, but finds herself too weak and dizzy, and falls back
heavily upon her pillow.
"Lie still, my love, and when you are able I will let you go. But do not
blame me for what has occurred, it was by your own consent. You
know I am going to marry you, and all will be well."
"No," she sobs, "all will not be well; nothing will ever be well with me
again," and she returns to the room which she has left a few hours
before as a bright and happy girl, now broken hearted and on the verge
of despair, with a blot upon her young life which nothing on earth can
efface. To be sure, he who has brought all this upon her has promised
to right the wrong by marriage, but poor consolation it seems to her to
have to marry a man whom she feels to be worse than a murderer; even
this poor consolation is denied her, however, for the wretch, when he
gave the promise, had no thought of fulfilling it. Such trifles as this he
thinks nothing of. It is the way of most high society men, and when he
comes to her again it is not to marry her, but to seek to drag her lower
down. She repels him and he is seen by her no more. He has no further
use for her.
Days grow to months, and now added sorrow fills her cup of grief to
overflowing. She is to become a mother, and the poor girl cries out in
bitter anguish: "My God, what shall I do, must I commit murder. Oh,
that I had never entered a ball-room."
All her old companions shun her, every one shuns her, even he who led
her to her ruin shuns her. She goes to him, hoping he will have
compassion upon her, but he meets her with a sneer, calls her a fool,
and tells her to commit a yet greater crime than the first, which in her
despair she does and "seals the band of death."
She soon became very ill and sank rapidly, and then came a time when
she felt that life was short, and that if she wished to leave a message on

earth it must be delivered quickly. Having heard of my conversion and
that I intended exposing the evils which germinate in the ball-room she
sent a messenger requesting me to call immediately.
On entering the house I was led to a couch in a cosy room where lay
the beautiful young woman whose pale face showed all to plainly, an
amount of sorrow and suffering unwarranted by her years. The
countenance of the sufferer brightened as I entered, and she extended
her hand saying: "I am so glad you came to see me, so glad to know
that you are to expose the evil which buds in the dance hall. Do not
delay your work. I have prayed God to spare my life that I might go
and warn young girls against that which has made such a sad wreck of
my once pure and happy life, for, when I entered dancing school, I was
as innocent as a child and free from sin and sorrow, but under its
influence and in its association I lost my purity, my innocence, my all,
but I know that God has forgiven the sin which is sending me to my
early grave, where I shall soon be forgotten by all earthly friends.
"Do not grieve for me. I am leaving this dark world for a bright and
happy one where sin and sorrow are unknown. Mother is waiting for
me there and I am not afraid
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