The picture of his cousin Beatrice working was so absurd that Everett smiled.
“This is the sort of a gown my cousin wears when she goes to a ball,” he explained.
“A ball! What is a ball?” asked Walda.
“Oh, it is a party—an assembly of men and women where there are music and flowers and brilliant lights.”
“And what do the people do? Do they sing hymns and pray as we do at our meetings?”
Again Everett smiled. The spectacle of the guests at a modern ball joining in hymns and prayers would be entertaining indeed, he thought.
“They talk and dance, Walda.”
“There is dancing spoken of in the Bible,” said Walda; “but the elders of Zanah have told the people how the rite hath been degraded by the men and women of the world. I have heard that dancing is no longer a religious ceremony.”
“That is true, indeed,” said Everett, and the memory of some of the stage-dancing flashed across his brain.
“What is thy cousin’s work?” Walda inquired, again studying the photograph.