plemented by a huge bunch of violets, and her husband's evening dress
betrayed a slight exaggeration of the prevailing fashion in respect to
his standing collar and necktie. Selma had never had a thorough look at
him before, and she reflected that he was decidedly impressive and
handsome. His face was full and pleasant, his mustache large and
gracefully curved, and his figure manly. His most distinguishing
characteristic was a dignity of bearing uncommon in so young a man,
suggesting that he carried, if not the destiny of republics on his
shoulders, at least, important financial secrets in his brain. The man
and woman with them were almost elderly and gave the effect of being
strangers to the city. They were Mr. and Mrs. Silas S. Parsons. Mr.
Parsons was a prosperous Western business man, who now and then visited
New York, and who had recently become a customer of Williams's. He had
dealt in the office where Williams was a clerk, and, having taken a
fancy to him, was disposed to help the new firm. Gregory had invited
them to dinner and to the theatre, by way of being attentive, and had
taken a box instead of stalls, in order to make his civility as
magnificent as the occasion would permit. A box, besides being a
delicate testimonial to his guest, would cause the audience to notice
him and his wife and to ask who they were.

In the gradual development of the social appetite in this country a
certain class has been evolved whose drawing-room is the floor of the
leading theatres. Society consists for them chiefly in being present
often at theatrical performances in sumptuous dress, not merely to
witness the play, but to be participants in a social function which
enhances their self-esteem. To be looked at and to look on these
occasions takes the place with them of balls and dinner parties. They
are not theatregoers in the proper sense, but social aspirants, and the
boxes and stalls are for them an arena in which for a price they can
show themselves in their finery and attractions, for lack of other
opportunities.

Our theatres are now in the full blaze of this harmless appropriation
for quasi-ballroom uses. At the time when Selma was a New York bride the
movement was in its infancy. The people who went to the theatre for
spectacular purposes no less than to see the actors on the stage were
comparatively few in number. Still the device was practised, and from
the very fact that it was not freely employed, was apt to dazzle