"Are you fond of dancing, Mr. Thane?" inquired Mrs. Pollock. "I
used to love to trip the light fantastic."
"I am very fond of dancing," said he, and then added with a smile:
"Especially since the girls have taken to parking their corsets."
There was a shocked silence, broken by Miss Grady, who, as a
dressmaker, was not quite so finicky about the word.
"What do you mean by parking?" she inquired.
"Same as you park an automobile," said he, enjoying the sensation
he had created. "It's the fashion now, among the best families as
well as the worst, for the girls when they go to dances to leave
their corsets in the dressing rooms. Check 'em, same as you do your
hat."
"Bless my soul," gasped Mr. Pollock. "Haven't they got any mothers?"
"Sure,--but the mothers don't know anything about it. You see, it's
this way. We fellows won't dance with 'em if they've got corsets
on,--so off they come."
"What's the world coming to?" cried the editor.
"You'd better ask where it's going to," said Charlie Webster.
"Do you go to the opera very often?" asked Miss Miller nervously.
He spoke rather loftily of the Metropolitan Opera House, and very
lightly of the Metropolitan Museum,--and gave Charlie Webster a
sharp look when that amiable gentleman asked him what he thought
of the Metropolitan Tower.
But he was at home in the theatre.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159