There is generally something a little dull and formal during the first evening of a country house party; and if this is true when most of the people know each other, how far more so is it the case with such a party as that which was now gathered together at Wyndfell Hall! Lionel Varick sat at one end of the long oak refectory table, Blanche Farrow at the other.

But though the table was far wider than are most refectory tables (it was believed to be, because of its width, a unique specimen), yet Blanche, very soon after they had sat down, told herself that there was something to be said, after all, for the old-fashioned, Victorian mahogany.

Such a party as was this party would have sorted themselves out, and really enjoyed themselves much more, sitting in couples round an ordinary dining-table, than at this narrow, erstwhile monastic board.

Here they were just a little bit too near together--too much _vis-a-vis_, so Blanche put it to herself with a dissatisfied feeling.
But soon things began going a little better.

It had been her suggestion that champagne should be offered with the soup, and already it was having an effect.