"I do not love anything that my King hates," said Eleanor shaking her head gently.
"But dancing, and wine,—what harm is in them?"
"Think what they lead to!—"
"Well wine—excuse me, I know so little about these things! and I want to know what you think;—wine, I know, if people will drink too much,—but what harm is in dancing?"
"None that I know of," said Eleanor,—"if it were always suited to womanly delicacy, and if it took one into the society of those that love Christ—or helped one to witness for him before those who do not."
"Well, I will tell you the truth," said Mrs. Esthwaite with a sort of penitent laugh,—"I love dancing."
"Ay, but I love Christ," said Eleanor; "and whatever is not for his honour I am glad to give up. It is no cross to me. I used to like some things too; but now I love Him; and his will is my will."
"Ah, that is what I said! you are good, that is the reason. I can't help doing wrong things, even if I want to do it ever so much, and when I know they are wrong; and I shouldn't like to give up anything."
"Listen," said Eleanor, holding her hands fast. "It is not that I am good. It is that I love Jesus and he helps me. I cannot do anything of myself—I cannot give up anything—but I trust in my Lord and he does it for me. It is he that does all in me that you would call good."
"Ah, but you love him."