Post by Ymbert Montgomery on Apr 28, 2020 21:47:05 GMT
The Social Whirlwind by Le Mole
Ah, poor old May. The last month in the social calender before our brave boys go off to the front. So it needed a bang. And gosh, did we get one.
My colleagues will cover the theatre properly, but I hear that Subaltern D'Blancheur (in the company of the charming Mme. Sabilina) and Monsigneur de la Bassée were seen enjoying themselves in a private box on the first night. Not only that, but the three were later to be found hobnobbing with the Spanish Ambassador at the first night party. A curious choice, considering recent events...
Down in the cheap seats I spotted Monsieur Aiguille and Mme. Johi.
Which is equally notable. You see, a source tells me that Monsieur Aiguille's dear mother left us last month. And yet here he was, at the theatre rather than at home. I'm glad to see he knows what his priorities are.
But of course, the true event of the month was the May Ball held by Viscomte Gorne and the always delighful Mme. Helen. Who I hear was a charming hostess, explaining why her rise might have been quite so meteoric. But what of the dancing? I hear you cry. It was a ball after all.
Oh, Subaltern D'Blancher. Oh. Oh dear. Perhaps some lessons at Madame Duschene's would be in order before you take to the floor again? It is generally consider bad form to be obviously counting the steps. If even Monsieur Aigulle and Mme Johi can manage it, surely you should do better as a gentleman of breeding? Naturally, Monsigneur de la Bassée did not dance. (He likely leaves that kind of behaviour to our absent friend). And Baron la Garde de Bearne and Dame Emelin showed why they have a reputation on the dancefloor. But for once, they didn't stand out. Not when the hosts proceeded to rip the dancefloor up entirely, even drawing spontaneous applause from the other guests.
I was somewhat startled to see Baron la Garde de Bearne pay his respects to Viscomte Gorne. I know it's good to be polite to your host, but one should keep one's out standing in mind.
But of course the big announcement of the evening was the adoption of Mme Helen by her aunt and uncle. Congratulations on attaining legitimacy, my darling. Give it a decade and people may even forget the lowly circumstances of your birth. (Although the happy occasion seemed to be marred by some tension between Mme. Helen and Uncle Phillipe. I shall endevaour to find out more, purely in the public interest.
And finally the "religious gathering" so beloved by Monsigneur de la Bassée. In Hunters this time, congratulations Monsigneur. It was rather quieter this time, with only Guardsman Lannes and Mme. Acelina in attendance. Or at least it would have been quiet, if not for the spectacular drunkneness of Guardsman Lannes. He rather managed to amuse the club patrons, as he placed several successful side bets on such important topics as how many olives he could balance in Mmes' Acelina's decolletage. He even went home with some pocket change. All jolly fun, but I'm not sure it's the sort of behaviour that should be taking place at an event hosted by a man of the cloth.
Ah, poor old May. The last month in the social calender before our brave boys go off to the front. So it needed a bang. And gosh, did we get one.
My colleagues will cover the theatre properly, but I hear that Subaltern D'Blancheur (in the company of the charming Mme. Sabilina) and Monsigneur de la Bassée were seen enjoying themselves in a private box on the first night. Not only that, but the three were later to be found hobnobbing with the Spanish Ambassador at the first night party. A curious choice, considering recent events...
Down in the cheap seats I spotted Monsieur Aiguille and Mme. Johi.
Which is equally notable. You see, a source tells me that Monsieur Aiguille's dear mother left us last month. And yet here he was, at the theatre rather than at home. I'm glad to see he knows what his priorities are.
But of course, the true event of the month was the May Ball held by Viscomte Gorne and the always delighful Mme. Helen. Who I hear was a charming hostess, explaining why her rise might have been quite so meteoric. But what of the dancing? I hear you cry. It was a ball after all.
Oh, Subaltern D'Blancher. Oh. Oh dear. Perhaps some lessons at Madame Duschene's would be in order before you take to the floor again? It is generally consider bad form to be obviously counting the steps. If even Monsieur Aigulle and Mme Johi can manage it, surely you should do better as a gentleman of breeding? Naturally, Monsigneur de la Bassée did not dance. (He likely leaves that kind of behaviour to our absent friend). And Baron la Garde de Bearne and Dame Emelin showed why they have a reputation on the dancefloor. But for once, they didn't stand out. Not when the hosts proceeded to rip the dancefloor up entirely, even drawing spontaneous applause from the other guests.
I was somewhat startled to see Baron la Garde de Bearne pay his respects to Viscomte Gorne. I know it's good to be polite to your host, but one should keep one's out standing in mind.
But of course the big announcement of the evening was the adoption of Mme Helen by her aunt and uncle. Congratulations on attaining legitimacy, my darling. Give it a decade and people may even forget the lowly circumstances of your birth. (Although the happy occasion seemed to be marred by some tension between Mme. Helen and Uncle Phillipe. I shall endevaour to find out more, purely in the public interest.
And finally the "religious gathering" so beloved by Monsigneur de la Bassée. In Hunters this time, congratulations Monsigneur. It was rather quieter this time, with only Guardsman Lannes and Mme. Acelina in attendance. Or at least it would have been quiet, if not for the spectacular drunkneness of Guardsman Lannes. He rather managed to amuse the club patrons, as he placed several successful side bets on such important topics as how many olives he could balance in Mmes' Acelina's decolletage. He even went home with some pocket change. All jolly fun, but I'm not sure it's the sort of behaviour that should be taking place at an event hosted by a man of the cloth.