The ladies of Whilomville were somewhat given to the pagan habit of
tea parties. When a tea party was to befall a certain house one could
read it in the manner of the prospective hostess, who for some
previous days would go about twitching this and twisting that, and
dusting here and polishing there; the ordinary habits of the household
began then to disagree with her, and her unfortunate husband and
children fled to the lengths of their tethers. Then there was a hush.
Then there was a tea party. On the fatal afternoon a small picked
company of latent enemies would meet. There would be a fanfare of
affectionate greetings, during which everybody would measure to an
inch the importance of what everybody else was wearing. Those who wore
old dresses would wish then that they had not come; and those who saw
that, in the company, they were well clad, would be pleased or
exalted, or filled with the joys of cruelty. Then they had tea, which
was a habit and a delight with none of them, their usual beverage
being coffee with milk.
Usually the party jerked horribly in the beginning, while the hostess
strove and pulled and pushed to make its progress smooth. Then
suddenly it would be off like the wind, eight, fifteen, or twenty-five
tongues clattering, with a noise like a cotton-mill combined with the
noise of a few penny whistles. Then the hostess had nothing to do but
to look glad, and see that everybody had enough tea and cake. When the
door was closed behind the last guest, the hostess would usually drop
into a chair and say: "Thank Heaven! They're gone!" There would be no
malice in this expression. It simply would be that, womanlike, she had
flung herself headlong at the accomplishment of a pleasure which she
could not even define, and at the end she felt only weariness.
The value and beauty, or oddity, of the tea-cups was another element
which entered largely into the spirit of these terrible enterprises.
The quality of the tea was an element which did not enter at all.
Uniformly it was rather bad. But the cups! Some of the more ambitious
people aspired to have cups each of a different pattern, possessing,
in fact, the sole similarity that with their odd curves and dips of
form they each resembled anything but a teacup. Others of the more
ambitious aspired to a quite severe and godly "set," which, when
viewed, appalled one with its austere and rigid family resemblances,
and made one desire to ask the hostess if the teapot was not the
father of all the little cups, and at the same time protesting
gallantly that such a young and charming cream-jug surely could not be
their mother.
But of course the serious part is that these collections so differed
in style and the obvious amount paid for them that nobody could be
happy. The poorer ones envied; the richer ones feared; the poorer ones
continually striving to overtake the leaders; the leaders always with
their heads turned back to hear overtaking footsteps. And none of
these things here written did they know. Instead of seeing that they
were very stupid, they thought they were very fine. And they gave and
took heart-bruises--fierce, deep heart-bruises--under the clear
impression that of such kind of rubbish was the kingdom of nice
people. The characteristics of outsiders of course emerged in shreds
from these tea parties, and it is doubtful if the characteristics of
insiders escaped entirely. In fact, these tea parties were in the
large way the result of a conspiracy of certain unenlightened people
to make life still more uncomfortable.
Mrs. Trescott was in the circle of tea-fighters largely through a sort
of artificial necessity--a necessity, in short, which she had herself
created in a spirit of femininity.
When the painter and his family came for the holidays, Mrs. Trescott
had for some time been feeling that it was her turn to give a tea
party, and she was resolved upon it now that she was reinforced by the
beautiful wife of the painter, whose charms would make all the other
women feel badly. And Mrs. Trescott further resolved that the affair
should be notable in more than one way. The painter's wife suggested
that, as an innovation, they give the people good tea; but Mrs.
Trescott shook her head; she was quite sure they would not like it.
It was an impressive gathering. A few came to see if they could not
find out the faults of the painter's wife, and these, added to those
who would have attended even without that attractive prospect, swelled
the company to a number quite large for Whilomville. There were the
usual preliminary jolts, and then suddenly the tea party was in full
swing, and looked like an unprecedented success.
Mrs. Trescott exchanged a glance with the painter's wife. They felt
proud and superior. This tea party was almost perfection.