As Barker came up a moment later, willing, perhaps, to show his triumph to the rejected suitors, Margaret thanked Mr.Bellingham, and offered to take him home if he would stay until one o'clock; then she glided away, not to dance but to sit in a quieter room, near the door of which couples would hover for a quarter of an hour at a time waiting to seize the next pair of vacant seats.

Mr.Bellingham moved away, amused by the music and the crowd and the fair young faces, until he found a seat in a corner, shaded from the flare of light by an open door close by, and there, in five minutes, he was fast asleep in the midst of the gaiety and noise and heat--unnoticed, a gray old man amid so much youth.
But Barker knew the house better than the most of the guests, and passing through the little room for which every one seemed fighting, he drew aside a heavy curtain and showed a small boudoir beyond, lighted with a solitary branch of candles, and occupied by a solitary couple.
Barker had hoped to find this sanctum empty, and as he pushed two chairs together he eyed the other pair savagely.
"What a charming little room," said Margaret, sinking into the soft chair and glancing at the walls and ceiling, which were elaborately adorned in the Japanese fashion.

The chairs also were framed of bamboo, and the table was of an unusual shape.

It was the "Japanese parlour[3]," as Mrs.Van Sueindell would have called it.

Every great house in New York has a Japanese or a Chinese room.