In the ladies’ dressing-room two of the maids were holding a long conversation in low tones, their heads together; evidently it was concerning something dreadful.  They continually exclaimed “Oh!” and “Ah!” suddenly sitting back from each other, shaking their heads, and biting their nether lips.  On the top floor in the hall the servants in their best clothes leaned over the balustrade, nudging each other, talking in hoarse whispers or pointing with thick fingers swollen with dish-water.  All up and down the stairs were the couples who were sitting out the dance, some of them even upon the circular sofa in the hall over the first landing.

The music stopped, leaving a babel of talk in the air, the couples fell apart for an instant, but a great clapping of hands broke out and the tired musicians heroically recommenced.

As soon as the short encore was done there was a rush for the lemonade and punch bowls.  The guests thronged around them joking each other.  “Hello! are you here again?” “Oh, this is dreadful!” “This makes six times I’ve seen you here.”

A smell of coffee rose into the air from the basement.  It was about half-past eleven; the next dance was the supper dance and the gentlemen hurried about anxiously searching the stairs, the parlours, and the conservatory for the girls who had promised them this dance weeks before.  The musicians were playing a march, and the couples crowded down the narrow stairs in single file, the ladies drawing off their gloves.  The tired musicians stretched themselves, rubbed their eyes, and began to talk aloud in the deserted parlours.

Supper was served in the huge billiard-room in the basement and was eaten in a storm of gayety.  The same parties and “sets” tried to get together at the same table; Henrietta Vance’s party was particularly noisy:  at her table there was an incessant clamour of screams and shouts of laughter.  One ate oysters a la poulette, terrapin-salads, and croquettes; the wines were Sauternes and champagnes.  With the nuts and dessert the caps came on, and in a few minutes were cracking and snapping all over the room.

Six of the unfortunates who knew no one, but who had managed through a common affliction to become acquainted with each other, gathered at a separate table.  Ellis was one of their number; he levied a twenty-five assessment, and tipped the waiter a dollar and a half.  This one accordingly brought them extra bottles of champagne in which they found consolation for all the ennui of the evening.

After supper the dancing began again.  The little stiffness and constraint of the earlier part of the evening was gone; by this time nearly everybody, except the unfortunates, knew everybody else.  The good dinner and the champagne had put them all into an excellent humour, and they all commenced to be very jolly.  They began a Virginia Reel still wearing the magician’s caps and Phrygian bonnets of tissue paper.