If to be pompous and pretentious and insincere is to be vulgar, I really think the vulgar of our time are not these old plutocrats--not even their grandsons, who hunt and shoot and yacht and swagger with the best--but those solemn little prigs who have done well at school or college, and become radicals and agnostics before they've even had time to find out what men and women are made of, or what sex they belong to themselves (if any), and loathe all fun and sport and athletics, and rave about pictures and books and music they don't understand, and would pretend to despise if they did--things that were not even _meant_ to be understood. It doesn't take three generations to make a prig--worse luck! At the Gibsons' there was neither pompousness nor insincerity nor pretension of any kind, and therefore no real vulgarity. It is true they were a little bit noisy there sometimes, but only in fun. When we arrived at that most hospitable house the two pretty drawing-rooms were already crammed with young people, and the dancing was in full swing. I presented Barty to Mrs. Gibson, who received him with her usual easy cordiality, just as she would have received one of her husband's clerks, or the Prime Minister; or the Prince Consort himself, for that matter. But she looked up into his face with such frank unabashed admiration that I couldn't help laughing--nor could he! She presented him to Mr. Gibson, who drew himself back and folded his arms and frowned; then suddenly, striking a beautiful stage attitude of surprised emotion, with his hand on his heart, he exclaimed: "Oh! Monsewer! Esker-voo ker jer dwaw lah vee?--ah! kel bonnure!" And this so tickled Barty that he forgot his manners and went into peals of laughter. And from that moment I ceased to exist as the bright particular star in Mr. Gibson's firmament of eligible young men: for in spite of the kink in my nose, and my stolid gravity, which was really and merely the result of my shyness, he had always looked upon me as an exceptionally presentable, proper, and goodly youth, and a most exemplary--that is, if my sister was to be trusted in the matter; for she was my informant. I'm afraid Barty was not so immediately popular with the young cavaliers of the party--but all came right in due time. For after supper, which was early, Barty played the fool with Mr. Gibson, and taught him how to do a mechanical wax figure, of which he himself was the showman; and the laughter, both baritone and soprano, might have been heard in Russell Square. Then they sang an extempore Italian duet together which was screamingly droll--and so forth. Leah distinguished herself as usual by being attentive to the material wants of the company: comfortable seats, ices, syrups, footstools for mammas, and wraps; safety from thorough draughts for grandpapas--the inherited hospitality of the clan of Gibson took this form with the sole daughter of their house and home; she had no "parlor tricks."