"Why, they all do," says he, innocent as a lamb. "No better dancers in Washington."
Sisters, what do you think of that? Was I to blame when I insisted on leaving that house at once? Would you have had me sit by and witness this degradation? "No," says I to Cousin Dempster, "I won't stay. If ministers of the Gospel will do such things, I, as a New England woman—girl I mean—would be committing a sin to look on."
"But you do not understand. They are Foreign Ministers, sent here by other nations, which they represent."
"So much the worse—how dare they set such examples?" says I.
"Ambassadors! can't you understand?"
"Of course I understand. All ministers are ambassadors from the Lord; but I never heard of their dancing, except that Shaking Quakers do now and then, which is a part of their religion, and they are only elders, anyhow."
"But there is no religion in these things!"
"I should rather think not," says I, a-walking resolutely toward the door. "Now it's of no use explaining and apologizing to me. Dancing ministers ain't of my sort. I'm going right straight home."
Sisters, I went.