was the most prominent bachelor in New York society. I had been reading about him in the papers for years. His name regularly headed the list of men present at every fashionable entertainment, and one was continually being informed of his visiting this great person or that in Newport, Saratoga, Lenox, Tuxedo and Palm Beach.
Prominent as he was at this time, he must have been still more prominent a few years ago when the cotillion was still a feature of every ball. I have always wondered what a cotillion was. Barry Govett was the cotillion leader par excellence. They said then that one had to engage him months ahead like royalty.
All this I had gathered from the gossipy weeklies which, like every other stenographer whose social life was limited to a boarding house, I used to read with avidity. Barry Govett was their pièce de résistance. Before all this happened he was once pointed out to me in court costume at a great fancy dress ball; and I thought then that he had the most beautifully turned legs I had ever seen on a man.
He must have been over forty then, but still conveyed the effect of a young man; very handsome in his style. But too much the cotillion leader for me. When I thought over this I wondered what a woman like Mrs, Whittall could have seen in him. One never knows!
Mme. Storey, in her clever way, managed to get him to tea one day. The moment he entered the outer office I was aware of a personality. Of course no man could occupy so lofty a position for years, even if it was only at the head of a frivolous society, without acquiring great aplomb. Close at hand in the daylight I saw that there was little of the youth remaining about him, though his figure was still slim, but I liked him better than I expected.
He had a long, oval face, refined in character, almost ascetic-looking, with nice blue eyes, though they were always pleasantly watchful, and betrayed little. He was wonderfully turned out, of course, but nothing spectacular. It was the perfection of art that conceals art. I was immediately sensible of his charm, too, though I had discounted it in advance. The smile and the bow conveyed no intimation that he saw in me merely the humble secretary.
I took him in to Mme. Storey. She was playing the great Jady that afternoon, and the black ape Giannino in green cap and jacket with golden bells was seated in the crook of her left arm. Mr. Govett hastened forward and gracefully kissed her hand. I wondered if Giannino would snatch at his none-too-well-covered poll. We were always amused to see how the ape would receive a new person. He is an individual of very strong likes and dislikes. However, he only made a face at Mr. Govett, and hissed amicably. Indeed, Mr. Govett held out his elbow, and Giannino hopped upon it and stroked his face. This was a great victory.
“Dear lady,” said Mr. Govett, “this is a great and undeserved privilege. To be invited to tea with you, and”—looking around the room—“alone!”
“Just me and Giannino and my friend Miss Brickley,” said Mme. Storey.
He whirled around and bowed to me again, murmuring: “Charmed!” My hand was horridly self-conscious in the expectation that he might offer to kiss it. I wondered if it was quite clean. Which way would I look! I could see too, that Mme. Storey was wickedly hoping that he might. Fortunately he did not.
“Miss Brickley has been dying to meet you,” she said slyly.
“Ah! You do me too much honor!” he said.
I was rather fussed, and therefore I was bound not to show it. “Well, you're such a famous man,” I said.
“Now you're spoofing me,” he said, shaking a forefinger in my direction. “It's not much to be a hero of the society notes, is it?”
Tea was waiting, and we attacked it forthwith. Mr. Govett stroking Giannino's pompadour, and feeding him sugar, supplied most of the conversation. His gossip was extremely amusing, without being malicious—well not very malicious. No doubt he suited his talk to his company.
Had we heard that Bessie Van Brocklin was going to give a zoological dinner? It was in honor of her new cheetah? He didn't know quite what a cheetah was; the name sounded ominous. The Princess Yevrienev had promised to bring her lion cubs, and the Goldsby-Snows would be on hand with their falcons. Somebody else had a wolf, and he had heard a rumor that there was an anaconda being kept in the dark. Oh, and of course there were plenty of monkeys in society, zoological and otherwise. It ought to be a brilliant affair.