As to the number of guests to be invited, no precise rules can be laid down. The size of your room does not seem to be any guide. The custom is to ask rather more than twice as many as your rooms will hold; but one-third more will be enough, as it will allow of disappointments at the last moment, even if all have accepted the invitations. Besides, during the gayest of the season, the fashion of going to several balls in one night necessitates ensuring the presence of a sufficiently large number of guests all through the evening. If you really wish for dancing, do not exceed the last limits. If, however, your aim is to have the largest ball of the season, a crush and crowd, to make a sensation, then invite your entire visiting list, and endure the consequences.
A hundred guests constitute a "ball;" over that, a "large ball;" under that, merely a "dance."
One of the first requisites of a ball-room is thorough ventilation, especially if there is a prospect of a large number of guests.
One of the most desirable points in a ball is to have a beautifully arranged room. The floor must be well waxed, and perfectly even, and it is well to draw a cord across two-thirds of it, not admitting more than can dance inside the space so cut off at once. The French make their ball-rooms perfect flower-gardens. Every comer has its immense bouquet; the walls are gracefully wreathed; bouquets, baskets, and exquisitely decorated pots of growing plants are placed in every available place. The staircases, landings, and supper-room are all filled with floral treasures, harmonizing with fine effect with the brilliant lights and gay the dresses of the ladies. It adds to the effect to conceal the musicians behind a screen of evergreen and flowers.
The dressing-rooms should be provided with two servants apiece, and small cards, with the names of the invited guests upon them, should be in readiness to pin to the wraps of each one.
In each dressing-room, have plenty of water, soap, and towels upon the washstand, several brushes and combs, small hand-mirrors, pin- cushions well filled, and stick pomade upon the bureau. The ladies' room should also have hair-pins, a work-box in readiness to repair any accidental rip or tear; cologne, hartshorn, and salts, in case of faintness. The gentlemen's room should be provided with a boot-jack, a whisk, and a clothes-brush.
No one should accept an invitation to a ball who cannot or who will not dance. They are mere encumbrances. Nothing is more trying to the feelings of a hostess than to see a number of wallflowers ornamenting (?) her ball-room.
The hour at which one may go to a ball varies from ten o'clock in the evening until daybreak. Any one who attends several balls in one evening will, of course, find it impossible to appear at an early hour at each one.
The lady of the house—who should, if possible, know the name of everybody who enters the room—must stand near the door, so as to receive her guests, to each of whom she must find something to say, no matter how trifling. The host must also be near, to welcome arrivals, and the sons to introduce people. The young ladies must see that the dances are kept up, and should not dance themselves till they have found partners for all their friends. They may with perfect propriety ask any gentleman present to be introduced to a partner, and he is bound to accept the invitation; but the lady must be careful whom she asks. Many present may be entire strangers to her. Miss A. has brought her betrothed; Miss B. introduces her cousin, Captain —-, on a short leave of absence from his regiment in Texas; Miss C. presents her brother, just returned from California; Miss D. begs leave to introduce a cousin on a short visit to the city; Miss E., a belle, has informed a dozen or two of her admirers where they may bow to her on the evening of the ball. All these strangers bow to the hostess, and must be provided with partners. The "Man in the Club Window" says:
"I have known a case where a distinguished-looking young man, having declined the lady's invitation to dance, but being pressed by,' I can't make up the lancers without you,' somewhat reluctantly accepted, performed his part so well that his partner was quite eprise with him, and even ventured on a little flirtation. You can imagine her dismay when, a little later in the evening, she saw her charming acquaintance carrying up a pile of plates from the kitchen to the supper-room. For the first time in her life, she had danced with an occasional waiter."