I said that I was delighted to meet--see them. Mrs. Slater turned to
another lady standing near her.
"Mrs. Raggles, _do_ let me introduce Mr. Valentine. We were so afraid
that he would not be able to come."
While I talked as well as I could to Mrs. Raggles, I surreptitiously
observed my host and hostess. Mr. Slater looked uncomfortable. There
was a consciousness in his uneasy manner that if I was a sham, so was
he. I feared that he might give us both away before the evening was
over. Mrs. Slater, on the contrary, soared above any feeling of this
sort. Her party was to be a success; that was evidently her principal
object. What a comfort this was to me! I felt safe in her hands. Of
course it was as much of an object to her as to me to conceal the fact
that I was not a _bona fide_ invited guest. I took my cue at once.
Avoid Mr. Slater; arrange matters in such a way that Mrs. Slater could
engineer me through the evening. All the time I had a sensation that
in avoiding Mr. Slater I was avoiding an old and tried friend. There
was something strangely familiar in his face; in the almost courtly
wave of his hand as he directed his guests to the refreshment-room; in
his protecting manner as he walked about, first with one lady, then
with another. I cannot recall distinctly the events of the evening. I
have a confused impression of lights, flowers, music, and people, much
like any other party, yet with certain differences. The dressing was
not in particularly good taste, and the German was managed in a most
extraordinary manner. At eleven o'clock the man who was to lead it
came forward with a hat containing scraps of paper. I noticed that all
the men went up and drew a slip of paper. They examined it, and
retired into the crowd. I couldn't imagine what this ceremony meant,
and felt sure that when my turn came I should make some frightful
blunder. As I thought this, I found Mrs. Slater beside me. She
hurriedly explained to me that this party was one of a series of
Germans given at the houses of her friends, and that there had been
some feeling on the part of certain young ladies because others had
been oftener asked to dance the German and drive home afterward than
they had. In order to obviate this a system of lots had been arranged,
by which chance alone decided the matter. "Each young gentleman,"
concluded Mrs. Slater, "can bring any young lady that he wishes to the
party; but he is expected to go home with the lady whom he draws for
the German. I hope you understand what is expected of you. You dance,
of course?" she added, with a slightly stern manner--the manner of a
proprietor. I said that I could.
Accordingly I drew my lot, and found myself the partner of a pretty
girl, who proved to be the daughter of Mrs. Raggles.
This is my journal; no one will ever see it; I can be honest. I
impressed Miss Raggles. I think I impressed every one that I met. I
realized that on the mere making a good impression depended my success
in the future. To talk, to dance, to flirt, to eat ice-cream, at the
rate of three or four dollars an hour--for the present this was my
profession. Why not elevate it, glorify it, by doing these things
better than any one else had ever done them? There was an exhilaration
in the thought. It positively inspired me. I was in constant demand,
and was presented to almost every one. Toward the end of the evening
Mrs. Slater asked me to sing. I thought it odd for a large party, but
I sang my best. One thing damped my spirits. I had been standing in
the doorway, when I suddenly became aware of two waiters who were
whispering together at a short distance. In a lull of the music their
words reached me.
"Which did yer say he was?" said one in a loud whisper.
"That's him--him there by the door, the good-lookin' fellow. Looks as
if he didn't have nothin' in the world to do but stand there all the
evening," answered the other.
"You don't say!" ejaculated the first; "and he gets fifteen dollars
for doin' the likes of that? You and me has missed our vocation,
Bill."
I could have knocked down the impertinent fellows, but, after all,
what right had I to do it? It was all true. "Noblesse oblige," I
muttered through my clinched teeth; and catching Mrs. Slater's stern
glance, I went to do my duty by taking my partner to supper.
At the close of the evening Mr. Slater came up to me. He was certainly
a dignified-looking old fellow, but he seemed unhappy. "Well, Mr.
Valentine," he said, with rather a melancholy smile, "you have done
remarkably well. Been quite the life of the evening. Trying thing to
entertain a party of this size. This is the first time we have done
it. How do you think it went off? Your candid opinion now."
"Remarkably well," I said.
I noticed that his manner to me was secret and confidential, as if we
had entered into some dark partnership of crime.
"Mrs. Slater," he continued, "is an ambitious woman, and it was her
idea having you. She wanted a different style of young man from those
we have been accustomed to, and"--looking at me with a sad pride--"she
got it--she got it."
As I looked at him his face seemed to grow more familiar. At this
moment Miss Raggles, who had gone up-stairs to get her cloak, made her
appearance. I bade a hurried good-night to Mr. and Mrs. Slater, and
accompanied the young lady home. She lived in that part of Fifth
Avenue which is on the confines of both New York and Harlem. She
treated me as a distinguished stranger, and ended by inviting me to
call. Unsuspecting Miss Raggles! Her mother had apparently gone home
hours before. In the Slater set they managed things in this way.