She smiled gaily as she placed a hand in his and followed him onto the floor. "Are you not enjoying yourself immensely?" she asked, placing one hand on his broad shoulder and feeling the warmth of his hand against her waist. "I think there is no pleasure so exquisite as dancing. I always wish a ball would never come to an end."

"That would be all sugar with no bread and vegetables," he said with that smile that barely moved the muscles of his face. It was there behind his eyes and lurking at the corners of his mouth. "Do you not think that you would become weary after two or three days and nights of continuous dancing?"

She giggled. "I did not intend to be taken quite so literally, sir," she said. "Yes, I doubtless would be feeling rather footsore by perhaps the middle of August."

"But your sentiment was quite right," he said. "This is a lovely ball. The music is irresistible." And Rachel lost her breath for a moment as he twirled her unexpectedly in the middle of the floor.

"You are not a Puritan then?" she asked. "You do not frown upon such trivial pleasures?"

"I am here, am I not?" he said. "And dancing. It is not obligatory for a clergyman to walk around with a sober frown, you know. Indeed, if you know the Bible at all well, Lady Rachel, you will know that dancing has always been man's way of expressing exuberant spirits, even the spirit of praise and worship. Do you know the Psalms?"

Rachel grimaced. "Indeed, yes," she said. "The Bible is Papa's favorite book, and he tries constantly to make it everyone else's in his family."

He grinned. "Without much success?" he asked.

"Oh, I do think I would enjoy dancing before the Lord," she said. "I have always fancied that idea. Unfortunately, it is not Papa's way of appreciating the Bible. We more commonly sit soberly in the drawing room passing the book from hand to hand so that all may read a passage aloud for the edification of the others."