The assembly disengaged an impression of refined pleasure.

On every hand, innumerable dialogues seemed to go forward easily and naturally, without break or interruption, witty, engaging, the couple never at a loss for repartee.
A third party was gracefully included, then a fourth.

Little groups were formed,--groups that divided themselves, or melted into other groups, or disintegrated again into isolated pairs, or lost themselves in the background of the mass,--all without friction, without embarrassment,--the whole affair going forward of itself, decorous, tactful, well-bred.
At a distance, and not too loud, a stringed orchestra sent up a pleasing hum.

Waiters, with brass buttons on their full dress coats, went from group to group, silent, unobtrusive, serving salads and ices.
But the focus of the assembly was the little space before Hartrath's painting.

It was called "A Study of the Contra Costa Foothills," and was set in a frame of natural redwood, the bark still adhering.