Have I prepared you for the ball given last night for a Walter Reed benefit? I should have sent you the paper in which I appeared as a patroness. It was such a splendid prophecy that Mrs. Holloway refused to go because she hadn't a proper evening gown.
I invited Irma remembering how she loved to dance and knowing
her 2 dressed wardrobe I felt under no social obligation to purchase
a new evening gown. I went however, with a noble sacrificial air
or wasn't it more a $1.00 a year air - a lofty neglect of public
opinion - a certain glory in defying convention. If you can carry
it off a daring disregard always meets with admiration.
Scott had a new uniform or was it a freshly pressed one. At any
rate his spurs were adjusted with unusual care and a high anticifactory
vote of mingling with Washington's Elite was held thru the ordeal
of a postponed dinner hour due to Irma's late arrival.
When we had waited until 2 minutes of closing the dinner doors a message came from Baltimore that she was leaving so we dined coldly on salmon and over done steak and awaited her arrival with our eyes on the clock.
She came at 9:10 in a taxi cab but we weren't clever enough to stop her driver and so we had another 20 minute wait before we were started. It was a long drive to the Ordinance building. The ball was midway careering as we approached. Fetching strains of the military band greeted us. "There are smiles that that us happy there are smiles that make us sad. Why cried in Iui delight and dismay" Are we in the right place?" "We are" said Scott coldly pushing his way thru a group of noisy overseas men. "Why I can't understand." I said beginning to take off my cape. There, surely before my eyes were some three hundred Walter Reed boys and a girl for each boy! Scattered thru out were the Elite. a tempting sample of Washington's society. But it takes more than twelve "best people" to make a booted Captain happy. The taxi should be ordered to return at once. No we mustn't leave our wraps in the dressing room. We must carry them into the ball room and be ready to depart as soon as the signal was give.
"But, Scott", said Irma in her nice soft voice "I would like to dance." She is one of the kind of persons to whom dancing is self expression. She glows like a freshly fanned coal when dancing. Even with the poor one armed men who weren't ball masters she glowed brightly. Remembrance of past dancing in Germany mingled with a sense of gallantry postponed the hour of departure to 11.
Mrs. Zapponses was standing in the eogr of one of the two large
ball rooms. She was delighted to meet me and my friend and the
ranking officer.
Surely she had not intentionally deceived me but what about the
newspaper announcements? The ball was to be given for a Walter
Reed benefit, but it was worded so adroitly that there was no
suggestion of such immediate benefits.
Young Mrs. Zappore blew a quieting whistle and announced a folk dance. Twelve highland lassies kilted to the clearing made by pushing us back toward the wall. At that disturbed moment their Highland fling made me think only of my Scottish Uncle and sent me hurling back into an unhappy chapter of my childhood.
But not for long - twelve green girls from the Emerald Isle
replaced them and a jolly horn pipe soon drove away the bag pipe
horror. And then the whistle blew again and we were informed that
Mrs. Showoff Wife of the Commanding at W. R. would do her famous
Japanese dance. she came on ponderously. It was evident from the
first that this poor audience was the only one that would ever
stomp and clap for her again. It was her one giddy moment of supreme
delight. She wore a marvelous golden costume pantalets that ruffled
at the ankle. Dapline had a similar one when she danced with Ruth
St. Denis. Daplines the golden leaf. Mrs. Showoff a falling tree.
She was in actual size perhaps no larger than Aunt Jessie but
she raised her arms heavily, she floated down the Camouflage Globe
restaurant floor as I might have done on a day of extreme fatigue.
She fell to the floor in that closing up crumpled effect like
a clear woman slipping on a banana pee.
And yet those obedient privates cheered and their improvised evening
dressed partners cheered and she came back and fell again for
them.
Then the regular community dancing began again a Paul Jones. The ranking office led his guest to a near by seat. She asked innocently if he weren't well. "We will wait said he, until I can dance with you alone".
Poor Irma was disappointed. She like these game boy that were
dancing with stiff arms the hands gloved or with empty sleeves
that flapped. She would have enjoyed dancing with the occasional
boy that was managing a new leg, but she said nothing.
The laughing passed close. Paul Spivax with a paper hat of huge
Napoleonic dimension came by. He left off dancing without a thought
of the poor odd girl while he shook hands with us. He stayed long
enough to wipe off his teaming round kind face and then he darted
after the left one.
Demiaenia came by, the nice one armed Italian baker from San Diego,
he nodded happily but waited to greet us after the dance.
I was so sorry I was to tired to dance with them but I was at that stale of fatigue when even speech is an effort.
Paul did not disappoint me. Instead of feeling in anyway sensitive he realized that my unenthusiastic greeting was fatigue.
I told him I would meet him at the receiving ward at 12 on Monday and he was satisfied and didn't make me talk anymore against the deafening noise.
Then came Hooley! He didn't see me so I attracted his attention. He and his jolly partner came over to my corner. Why, Mr. Hooley, I cried. I thought you were discharged. I haven't seen you since you had dinner with us on Thanksgiving. He grinned. I've been 2 weeks in the guard house but I had 33 days at home."
The whistle again. Refreshments would be served in the NE part of the building. Scott looked at his watch, in five minutes the taxi would be there and it was more than a few minutes walk to the tables. Irma said wistfully. " But Scott I've had no dinner & very little lunch." "Oh go by all means and I will watch the wraps."
You would have thought we were in a den of thieves the care
he took of our outer covering.
There seemed no immediate chance of attention. Globe restaurant
girls hurried here and there but there were so many of us.
How Paul discovered us I can't imagine but he did and in less than a minute he came towards us with two orders apiece of everything. he said Mr. Zappones had announced that everyone must have tow helpings so he had taken him at his word.
While I was eating my ice cream Miss Noble brought up a soldier to me. She was trembling but bravely making an effort to conceal her emotion. "This is an old school friend, Mrs. Ormsby who has just arrived. He recognized me and then she stopped and I hurriedly broke in with profanes introductory remarks.
The lower part of his face was missing. I suppose there was no resemblance to the old school friend. Not even the fine eyes could command recognition in that poor face. I wonder how she kept from screaming.
Miss Noble & Margaret Poor are Cahill's friends. Margaret is in fact "his girl" you know. She looked very tired after a month of flu and anxiety over Cahill. And the party didn't seem to be cheering her up.
We were just finishing the last spoonful of cream when the Captain's fan gave warning of a hurried leave taking so we called good nights and left. We had told the driver of West 84 to meet us at 7th & H on the corner.
Strange that he wasn't there. he had been warned to wait indefinitely but it was we who did the indefinite waiting. We stood there 35 minutes, Irma and I did while Scott besieged the unanswering phone. Then we took the Georgetown car.
It was one a.m. when we stumbled upstairs. We quietly said good night. There were no spoken responses, but I fancy it will be a long while before we attempt breaking into Washington society again.