It was to her that Paris owed the introduction of that attractive dance, the "Boston." An inspiration, this dance!
Someone, I forget whom, has remarked of the waltz: "It is charming, it is fascinating; but one cannot chat." With the "Boston" it is different: one can dance that, and chat, and flirt too. Now a flirtation with an American girl is immensely agreeable, on account of the perfection which she brings to the art. To be gallant is no longer sufficient; to say things that are pretty, but insipid and commonplace, will not do at all; you must surpass yourself in wit and amiability, while keeping well within the bounds of the strictest propriety.
The "Boston" lends itself admirably to this charming amusement. It is voluptuously slow; a go-as-you-please dance, offering the added charm of a delightful tête-à-tête, when your partner is a bright and pretty girl.
I also used to get a great deal of diversion in looking at the American girls clearing the buffet. How they would fall-to! How they made the ices disappear, and tossed off punch, champagne, or anything that came to their pretty little hands! With what disdain they passed over the syrups and eau sucrée that the French girls timidly sipped, looking all the while to see whether Mamma was not staring round-eyed to show that she disapproved of such dissipation. They must have something serious and satisfying.
"A little more champagne, mademoiselle?"
"Yes, please."
"Another of these little cakes?"
"Yes, please."
Only the musicians, as they struck up the first bars of the next dance, had fascination enough to draw them away from the refreshment-room.