"I am ready to go, Mr. Dunbar," said Chiquita.
"While we are at it, suppose we take in one of the theater restaurants and then at midnight see the worst sink hole of iniquity on the American continent," replied Mr. Dunbar, a look of "do or die'" changing his usually kind face to that of uncompromising severity.
"I trust, Mr. Dunbar, I have not offended by asking a sacrifice of your self-respect, and—"
"No, no, do not mention it," interrupted he, quickly. "I am glad of this opportunity. To be sure it has taken a great deal of resolution on my part, not only to satisfy my consciousness of the propriety in the first place, but to feel that it is consistent with a Christian life to allow one's self on any pretext to come in contact with evil just to gratify curiosity. I am not in sympathy with the so-called slumming parties, either for the good such investigations may bring about, or for the benefit that such visitations might result in to the inmates. There are other methods by which the same end may be accomplished and not appear so drastic. I have sometimes wondered if there are really any grounds for the flings made at Chicago, and if there be any truth in the oft heard remark, 'Chicago's down town resorts have no counterpart in any other city in the world.' Of course I expect we will see a mild form of dissipation and possibly one or two who may have taken a drop too much, but as those stories go from one to another they are exaggerated until one has to make allowance for these word pictures. But here we are."
"Have a private room, sir?" asked an attendant, for they had stepped into a hallway leading to private dining rooms up stairs. "We have nice rooms for private parties. If you expect ladies you can wait for them there."
Just then a lady, unaccompanied, came through the swinging doors and darted to the elevator. In a low tone she told the attendant to show her to No. 7, where she would wait. Mr. Dunbar and Chiquita rather undecidedly followed into the elevator and were whisked up to the second floor, where they sauntered along toward an open door. Merry peals of laughter wafted over transoms and a sudden opening of one door showed a party of five seated round a table, while a sixth member, one of the fair sex, was standing on the table. Then the door shut out the scene. Mr. Dunbar gasped a little, but concluded to go back to the ground floor and have a lunch in the main restaurant. They were shown seats well back from the front of the place, in a position commanding a good view of the tables, all of which seemed crowded.
"While we are waiting for our lunch we can study the people," said Chiquita. "I guess the rooms up stairs are used by theatrical people and they give little dramas of their own."
"Yes, I should judge it to be dramatic," answered Mr. Dunbar grimly. "Do you notice at every table in the room some one is drinking, either a malt beverage or wine, and at a majority of the tables some one is smoking?" asked he of Chiquita.
"Yes, I presume they came here to forget the dark spots of a day's life and to drown sorrow in drink and music. You have not spoken of the classic strains coming from that harp and two fiddles."
Mr. Dunbar smiled audibly at the reference to music.