Next came the Schoonmakers, an elderly gentleman and his wife, who dined out a great deal, and lived on the ancient respectability of their family.  They talked much about “the old New Yorkers,” and of the inroads and devastations of the parvenu.  They were thoroughly posted on old family estates and mansions, the intermarriages of the Dutch aristocracy, and the subject of heraldry.  Mr. Schoonmaker made a hobby of old Bibles, and Mrs. Schoonmaker of old lace.  The two hobbies combined gave a mingled air of erudition and gentility to the pair that was quite impressive, while their unquestionably good descent was a source of social capital to all of humbler origin who were fortunate enough to draw them to their tables.

Next came the Tunbridges.  Mr. Tunbridge was the president of a bank, and Mrs. Tunbridge was the president of Mr. Tunbridge—­a large, billowy woman, who “brought him his money,” according to the speech of the town.  Mr. Tunbridge had managed his trust with great skill, and was glad at any time, and at any social sacrifice, to be brought into contact with men who carried large deposit accounts.

Next in order were Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish.  Mr. Cavendish was a lawyer—­a hook-nosed, hawk-eyed man, who knew a little more about everything than anybody else did, and was celebrated in the city for successfully managing the most intractable cases, and securing the most princely fees.  If a rich criminal were brought into straits before the law, he always sent for Mr. Cavendish.  If the unprincipled managers of a great corporation wished to ascertain just how closely before the wind they could sail without being swamped, they consulted Mr. Cavendish.  He was everywhere accounted a great lawyer by those who estimated acuteness to be above astuteness, strategy better than an open and fair fight, and success more to be desired than justice.

It would weary the reader to go through with a description of Mrs. Talbot’s dinner party in advance.  They were such people as Mr. and Mrs. Talbot naturally drew around them.  The minister was invited, partly as a matter of course, and partly to occupy Mr. Schoonmaker on the subject of Bibles.  The doctor was invited because Mrs. Talbot was fond of him, and because he always took “such an interest in the family.”

When Mr. Belcher arrived at Talbot’s beautiful but quiet house, the guests had all assembled, and, clothing their faces with that veneer of smile which hungry people who are about to dine at another man’s expense feel compelled to wear in the presence of their host, they were chatting over the news of the day.