to leave undone those
things that were not "done," and, generally, to be a very decent sort.
Their features were clean and firm; they were well-tended. Their minds
were clean. They talked clean; and, if they did not display any marked
signs of intelligence or imagination, if they had not the largeness of
personality for the noble and big things of life, you felt that at least
they had not the bent for doing anything dirty. Altogether, a nice set,
as insipid people mostly are: what are known in certain circles as
Gentlemen.

The girls.... Well, they, too, were a decent sort. Not so decent as the
boys, of course, because they were girls. They scanned one another a
little too closely. They were too obviously anxious to please. They were
too obviously out for the evening. Those who were of the at-home type
simpered. They talked in italics. The outdoor type walked like horses.
They looked unpleasant, too. I wonder why "Madge" or "Felice" or
"Ermyntrude," or some other writer of toilet columns in the ladies'
papers, doesn't tell her outdoor girl readers how hideous they look in
evening frocks. Why don't they urge them not to uncover themselves? For
the outdoor girl has large hands and large arms, both of a beefy red.
She has a face and neck tanned by sun and wind, and her ensemble, in a
frock cut to the very edge of decency, shows you red hands and forearms,
with a sharp dividing line where the white upper arm begins, and a raw
face and neck, with the same definite line marking the beginning of
white bosom and shoulders. The effect is ridiculous. It is also
repulsive. I think they ought to know about it.

The hall was tastefully decorated with white flowers and palms. There
was a supper-room, which looked good. The prizes, arranged on a table by
the platform, were elegant, well chosen, and of some value. I started at
a table with an elderly matron, a very self-conscious Fabian girl, and a
rather bored-looking man of middle age, who seemed to be bursting to
talk--which is the deadliest of sins at a Surbiton whist-drive. The
whist that I play is the very worst whist that has ever been seen. I
told my partner so, and she said, "Oh, really!" and asked me if I had
had any tennis yet. Then some one begged us to be seated, and, with much
arrangements of silks and laces and wraps, we sat down and began to play
whist. As I moved from table to table I made no fresh partners. They
were differently dressed, but otherwise there was no d