Phases of the “At Home.”

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIX, Issue IX, 30 August 1902, Page 573

Phases of the “At Home.”

What is known as “days at home” is apt to bring a queer jumble of people together, especially if the hostess is disposed to be eclectic and does not confine her visiting list to one particular set, in which case any intercourse between two utter strangers who have no topics in common is apt to be difficult. “Mrs Smith, you know Mrs Brown, I am sure,” says the mistress of the house to two women who happen to be calling at the same time. Then she rustles away to her other guests, feeling that she has disposed of the couple quite nicely—whereupon the pair who have acknowledged the introduction with the conventional galvanic smiles, which seem to come to order on such occasions, begin, as in duty bound, to endeavour to make conversation. Of course, nothing whatever occurs to either of them, so the weather seems to be their only refuge. “What a lovely day,” says one. “Yes,” answers the other, with enthusiasm; then a pause, wherein each one feels conscious of the awkwardness of the situation, and another attempt is made thlat is not much! better than the first. Even reaillv intelligent, elever women are seldom' equal to such emergencies, and their forced conversation on such occasions is anything but brilliant. Mistaken identities a* these gatherings are frequent, especially on the part of the kindly “old lady,” who in always to the fore in such places. “Yes. of course, I know Miss R.; she came with her mamma to my last reception.” one of the social individuals was heard to say recently, repeating beamingly the wrong name, as she was introduced to a total stranger at an afternoon tea. The latter looked weary, and accepted the situation as giving less trouble than an explanation. “And how is the dear mother, my dear?” continued the elderly butterfly.” “She is very well.” answered the bored-looking young ■woman, still purposely ignoring the mistake. “I am so fortunate to have rr.et you,” proceeded the good woman, volubly, “so that T can send her a

message. Please tell your mamma that 1 will be unable to take charge of the meeting, as I promised her for next Thursday.” Here was a dilemma, and some action was necessary. “I think you have made a mistake,” drawled the supposed Miss R. “My name is Smythe.” “Oh!” exclaimed the either offended at the tardy admission, and she turned away with dignified resentment.