:

You did well to stay West. Would to God I had! Julia's big party came
off last night. I told her weeks ago, when she began insinuating it,
that if it must be it must be, of course, and that I would pay all the
bills, but I wished it distinctly understood I wouldn't have anything
else to do with it. She assured me that nothing whatever would be
expected of me. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only woman with an
American husband, and that people would understand. She promised me I
should have a voice in the matter of cigars and champagne--you can know
they were _all right_--and I believe the success of the party was, in a
great measure, due to them.

My having "nothing whatever to do" with it consisted in hearing nothing
else discussed for days, and on the night in question having no room I
could call my own, my bedroom being devoted to the men (of course you
know that Julia and I haven't shared the same room for years, not since
the six months she spent with her married sister, Lady Glenwill), my
own sanctum down stairs was turned into a smoker, and I was obliged to
hang around in any place I could find, all ready for the guests a
couple of hours before they began to arrive. Of course, too, she
finally bulldozed me into helping her receive. You see, the little
woman really was worn out, for she had overseen everything. She is a
wonder! There isn't an English servant in New York, or London, either,
who can teach her anything, altho' our second footman happens to have
been with the Duke of Cambridge at one time. Not that I care a damn
about such things--except that the Duke is a soldier--but in speaking
of them I get to taking Julia's point of view. I helped her receive
some of the people, to sort of give her a feeling of not having the
whole infernal thing on her own shoulders. Everybody Julia wanted came,
and a great many she didn't want. I suppose out where you live you
don't have to ask the people you don't want. Here it's much more likely
you can't ask the people you do want. I have some business friends,
first-rate fellows, with good looking, dressy wives, but Julia bars
them every one because they aren't fashionables. You ought to see me
when _I'm_ fashionable! The most miserable specimen you ever saw. I
look just like one of the figures in a plate in a tailor's window,
labeled "latest autumn fashions," and I feel like one, too.

Julia looked stunning! By Jove! she was the handsomest woman there.
There isn't anot