Then came more drinks, more champagne. This wine I found most stimulating. I was conscious after a time that the crowd in the dining-room was much lessened. I sought Ethel Bassett: she was gone. No doubt she was suffering from the misfortune of being respectable. About me were nothing but fashionable girls and men.
One girl plucked a rose from her breast and threw it across the table. It hit a man, who immediately picked it up and threw it back; that set the bottle rolling. In a moment flowers were flying everywhere, and soon pieces of cake were used as missiles, and sandwiches and what not. Glasses went over and smashed. The fusillade only ceased when there was nothing left on the table, that could be easily thrown. Only then did the clamour die down, and we fell into silence; and with the absence of the exhilaration and excitement, a realization of what we had done, came over me. Mr. and Mrs. Lien were not to be seen.
Charlie Lien whispered to me, “Come and dance.” He was strong, he guided and held me up. When the dance was over he seated me in the ball-room and went and brought me a partner for the succeeding dance, one of his own friends. This man—I don’t know his name—danced divinely and treated me in his conversation and references, as, not a young girl, but a real woman of the world. I was Oh! so happy. The dances now were a riot, men and women sang to the music of the orchestra as they romped. The orchestra themselves were exhilarated, and had decorated themselves, or somebody had decked them with the flowers arranged about the bow window. Once beautiful plants were in ruin.
Dance followed dance, and I had no lack of partners: men I had seen dancing with Miss Mount, and Mabel Lien herself, came to me. My satisfaction was complete. I was happy. For once I was completely happy—and in society.
One of my partners happened to seat me near two demure maidens, who were without partners and evidently lacked admiration. I am afraid I didn’t feel as sympathetic as I ought.
“I have just come down from the dressing-room,” I heard one say. “The boys have got into the nursery and thrown things around simply awful. I looked in at the door. One was trying to sit on a rocking horse and broke it. Another was buffeting his friend with the mattress torn from a child’s cot. I saw Percy Jenkins put his foot through a drum; and dolls and animals were smashed and thrown all over the place.
“My!” exclaimed the other.
“Yes, I think this drinking is just horrible. I hear that one of the footmen, a Scotchman, who was himself drunk, emptied champagne into the claret cup.”
“I’ve heard it’s awfully risky to mix drinks.”
“Yes, and if news of this gets out I know Mother will never let me go to a New Year’s party again.”