It was almost impossible
to protect her from such attentions. The men had respect for virtue,
perhaps, though I have my doubts even about that, but virtuous airs
were considered in bad taste, and where was the line to be drawn
between reality and appearance? That the ladies retired from the table
toward the end of the meal and appeared again only for a brief quarter
of an hour to do the honors at coffee, goes without saying.
I have spoken above of the culinary art of good Mrs. Gaster, but in
spite of that art the bill of fare was really simple, especially in
comparison with the luxury prevalent nowadays at dinner parties.
Simple, I say, and yet stable. No man was willing to fall behind a set
standard, nor did he care to go beyond it. The soup was followed by a
fish course, and that, without fail, by French turnips and smoked
goose-breast. Then came a huge roast, and finally a sweet dish, with
fruits, spice-cakes, and Koenigsberg marchpane. An almost greater
simplicity prevailed with respect to the wines. After the soup sherry
was passed. Then a red wine of moderate price and moderate quality
gained the ascendant and held sway till coffee was served. So the
peculiar feature of these festivities did not lie in the materials
consumed, but, strange to say, in a certain spiritual element, in the
tone that prevailed. This varied considerably, when we take into
account the beginning and the end. The beginning was marked by toasts
in fine style, and occasionally, especially if the feast was at the
same time a family party--a birthday celebration or something of the
sort--there were even verses, which from the point of view of
regularity of form and cleverness of ideas left nothing to be desired.
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