New York society had now become so large that it seemed necessary to solve at once what, to us, has long been a problem, i.e. where we could bring general society together in one large dancing-room; for though you may have a dozen rooms thrown open, you will always find that all rush to the room where there is dancing. Where then could we get a room where all could at one and the same time be on the floor? It occurred to me that the Metropolitan Opera House had, in its stage and auditorium, such a room, and if we could only divest it of its characteristics, it would be what we wanted. Satisfying ourselves that we could accomplish this, we formed a Committee of Three and entered on this new enterprise. Artists, who have with ability painted small pictures, may venture on larger canvas. We had succeeded in giving balls of seven hundred and four hundred people. Why not have a similar success on a larger scale? Had our ideas been properly carried out, this ball would have been twice the success it was. The defects were evident, but when seen it was too late to remedy them. The artificial ceiling, cleverly planned to shut out the galleries, was not completed, the electric lights were not shaded as they should have been, and the music stands, ordered by the authorities to be elevated, were unsightly, and marred the brilliant effect we had studied to produce. All else received more praise than criticism. The four most striking points of this ball were, first, the reception of over twelve hundred people as at a private house by three of our most brilliant and accomplished society ladies; again, what may be termed the _Quadrille d’Honneur_ of that ball, which was the different sets of the Sir Roger de Coverly, danced by the most distinguished ladies of this city, the “nobs” and the “swells” on this occasion uniting; the supping of over twelve hundred people at one time at small tables, and the cotillion ably led by one of our distinguished State Senators, a man in himself representing family, wealth, and political position.