The Moorish lamps were bigger and dustier: the thick brocade draperies a little more faded and tattered; the furniture a little more gilded and wobbly.
Alla came gliding to greet Patty, and gave her an enthusiastic welcome.
"You darling!" she cried, "you _very_ darling! Look at her, everybody! Look! Gloat over this bit of perfect perfection! Did you ever _see_ anything so wonderful ?" Alla had led Patty to the middle of the room, and she now turned her round and round, like a dressmaker exhibiting a model.
Patty felt no embarrassment, for the people all about accepted the exhibition as a matter of course, and gazed at her in smiling approbation.

Moreover, all the guests were dressed as unconventionally as Patty, and even more so.

There were more queer costumes than she had seen at the Lakewood party, more weird effects of hairdressing and more eccentric posing and posturing.

The New York branch of these Bohemians were evidently farther advanced in their cult than the others she had seen.
A little bewildered, Patty allowed herself to be ensconced on a crimson and gold Davenport, and listened to a rattle of conversation that was partly intelligible, and partly, it seemed to her, absolute nonsense.
"I am exploiting this gem," Alla announced, indicating Patty herself as the "gem." "She hasn't quite found herself yet,--but she will soon command the range of the whole emotional spectrum! She is a wonder! Her soul is stuffed to bursting with dynamic force! We must train her, educate her, show her, gently guide her dancing feet in the paths of beauty,--in the star-strewn paths of cosmic beauty." "We will!" shouted a dozen voices.

"What can she do ?" "Dance," replied Alla.