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Updated: May 20, 2025
You ask for a bid to the Orchils'; I tell you quite seriously I can't secure one for you." "You'd better think it over," said Neergard menacingly. "Awfully sorry." "You mean you won't?" "Ah quite so." Neergard's thin nose grew white and tremulous: "Why?" "You insist?" in mildly bored deprecation. "Yes, I insist. Why can't you or why won't you?"
"Nothing important," said Ruthven with an intonation which troubled Neergard. "Did you come here to ah ask anything of me? Very glad to do anything, I'm sure." "Are you? Well, then, I want a card to the Orchils'." Ruthven raised his brows slightly; and Neergard waited, then repeated his demand.
That he had unwittingly and prematurely aroused some unsuspected force on which he had not counted and of which he had no definite knowledge was revealed to Neergard when he desired Rosamund to obtain for him an invitation to the Orchils' ball. It appeared that she could not do so that even the threatened tendency of Block Copper could not sharpen her wits to devise a way for him.
"Oh, I can stand their opinions," he said; "I only meet the yellow sort occasionally; I don't herd with them." "I do, thank you." "How do you like them? What is your opinion of the yellow set? Here they sit all about you the Phoenix Mottlys, Mrs. Delmour-Carnes yonder, the Draymores, the Orchils, the Vendenning lady, the Lawns of Westlawn " he paused, then deliberately "and the 'Jack' Ruthvens.
Nina wept happily at moments at moments she laughed because she had heard all about the famous British invasion planned by the Orchils and abetted by Anglo-American aristocracy. She did not laugh too maliciously; she simply couldn't help it.
Her set was not the Orchils' set, their ways were not her ways; their orbits merely intersected occasionally; and, left to herself and the choice hers, she would not have troubled herself to engineer any such alliance, even to stir up Mrs. Sanxon Orchil. Besides, deep in her complacent little New York soul she had the faintest germ of contempt for the Cordova ancestors of the house of Orchil.
Half an hour later when she emerged with her maid, Selwyn was not waiting for her as usual; and, scarcely understanding that she was finding an excuse for lingering, she stood for ten minutes on the step of the Orchils' touring-car, talking to Gladys about the lantern fête and dance to be given that night at Hitherwood House. Evidently Selwyn had already gone home.
But everywhere, in every quarter and class and set and circle there is always the depraved; and the logical links that connect them are unbroken from Fifth Avenue to Chinatown, from the half-crazed extravagances of the Orchils' Louis XIV ball to a New Year's reception at the Haymarket where Troy Lil's diamonds outshine the phony pearls of Hoboken Fanny, and Hatpin Molly leads the spiel with Clarence the Pig."
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