"Do you disapprove of dancing, ma'am?" said Mr. Haughton, who held her opinions in great respect, as well as a little dread.
"I neither approve nor disapprove of it. Jumping up and down is innocent enough in itself, and if it must be done, it is well it were done gracefully; as for the accompaniments of dancing I say nothing; what do you say, Doctor Ives?"
"To what, my dear madam?"
"To dancing."
"Oh, let the girls dance, if they enjoy it."
"I am glad you think so, doctor," cried the delighted Mr. Haughton; "I was afraid I recollected your advising your son never to dance nor to play at games of chance."
"You thought right, my friend," said the doctor, laying down his newspaper; "I did give that advice to Frank, who, you will please to remember, is now rector of Bolton. I do not object to dancing as not innocent in itself, or as an elegant exercise; but it is, like drinking, generally carried to excess. Now as a Christian, I am opposed to all excesses; the music and company lead to intemperance in the recreation, and they often induce neglect of duties—but so may anything else."
"I like a game of whist, doctor, greatly," said Mr. Haughton; "but observing that you never play, and recollecting your advice to Mr. Francis, I have forbidden cards when you are my guest."
"I thank you for the compliment, good sir," replied the doctor, with a smile; "still, I would much rather see you play cards than hear you talk scandal, as you sometimes do."
"Scandal!" echoed Mr. Haughton.
"Aye, scandal," said the doctor, coolly, "such as the remark you made the last time, which was only yesterday, I called to see you. You accused Sir Edward of being wrong in letting that poacher off so easily; the baronet, you said, did not shoot himself, and did not know how to prize game as he ought."
"Scandal, doctor—do you call that scandal? why, I told Sir Edward so himself, two or three times."
