The social evening was held in the restaurant in the basement.
The tables were put on one side so that there might be room for dancing, and smaller ones were set out for progressive whist.
"The 'eads 'ave to get there early," said Mrs. Hodges.
She introduced him to Miss Bennett, who was the belle of Lynn's.
She was the buyer in the 'Petticoats,' and when Philip entered was engaged in conversation with the buyer in the 'Gentlemen's Hosiery;' Miss Bennett was a woman of massive proportions, with a very large red face heavily powdered and a bust of imposing dimensions; her flaxen hair was arranged with elaboration.
She was overdressed, but not badly dressed, in black with a high collar, and she wore black glace gloves, in which she played cards; she had several heavy gold chains round her neck, bangles on her wrists, and circular photograph pendants, one being of Queen Alexandra; she carried a black satin bag and chewed Sen-sens.
"Please to meet you, Mr. Carey," she said. "This is your first visit to our social evenings, ain't it?
I expect you feel a bit shy, but there's no cause to, I promise you that."
She did her best to make people feel at home.
She slapped them on the shoulders and laughed a great deal.
"Ain't I a pickle?" she cried, turning to Philip. "What must you think of me?
But I can't 'elp meself."
Those who were going to take part in the social evening came in, the younger members of the staff mostly, boys who had not girls of their own, and girls who had not yet found anyone to walk with.
Several of the young gentlemen wore lounge suits with white evening ties and red silk handkerchiefs; they were going to perform, and they had a busy, abstracted air; some were self-confident, but others were nervous, and they watched their public with an anxious eye.
Presently a girl with a great deal of hair sat at the piano and ran her hands noisily across the keyboard.
When the audience had settled itself she looked round and gave the name of her piece.
"A Drive in Russia."
There was a round of clapping during which she deftly fixed bells to her wrists.
She smiled a little and immediately burst into energetic melody.
There was a great deal more clapping when she finished, and when this was over, as an encore, she gave a piece which imitated the sea; there were little trills to represent the lapping waves and thundering chords, with the loud pedal down, to suggest a storm.
After this a gentleman sang a song called Bid me Good-bye, and as an encore obliged with Sing me to Sleep.
The audience measured their enthusiasm with a nice discrimination. Everyone was applauded till he gave an encore, and so that there might be no jealousy no one was applauded more than anyone else.
Miss Bennett sailed up to Philip.
"I'm sure you play or sing, Mr. Carey," she said archly. "I can see it in your face."
"I'm afraid I don't."
"Don't you even recite?"
"I have no parlour tricks."
The buyer in the 'gentleman's hosiery' was a well-known reciter, and he was called upon loudly to perform by all the assistants in his department.
Needing no pressing, he gave a long poem of tragic character, in which he rolled his eyes, put his hand on his chest, and acted as though he were in great agony.
The point, that he had eaten cucumber for supper, was divulged in the last line and was greeted with laughter, a little forced because everyone knew the poem well, but loud and long.
Miss Bennett did not sing, play, or recite.
"Oh no, she 'as a little game of her own," said Mrs. Hodges.
"Now, don't you begin chaffing me. The fact is I know quite a lot about palmistry and second sight."
"Oh, do tell my 'and, Miss Bennett," cried the girls in her department, eager to please her.
"I don't like telling 'ands, I don't really.
I've told people such terrible things and they've all come true, it makes one superstitious like."
"Oh, Miss Bennett, just for once."
A little crowd collected round her, and, amid screams of embarrassment, giggles, blushings, and cries of dismay or admiration, she talked mysteriously of fair and dark men, of money in a letter, and of journeys, till the sweat stood in heavy beads on her painted face.
"Look at me," she said. "I'm all of a perspiration."
Supper was at nine.
There were cakes, buns, sandwiches, tea and coffee, all free; but if you wanted mineral water you had to pay for it.
Gallantry often led young men to offer the ladies ginger beer, but common decency made them refuse.
Miss Bennett was very fond of ginger beer, and she drank two and sometimes three bottles during the evening; but she insisted on paying for them herself.
The men liked her for that.
"She's a rum old bird," they said, "but mind you, she's not a bad sort, she's not like what some are."
After supper progressive whist was played.
This was very noisy, and there was a great deal of laughing and shouting, as people moved from table to table.
Miss Bennett grew hotter and hotter.
"Look at me," she said. "I'm all of a perspiration."
In due course one of the more dashing of the young men remarked that if they wanted to dance they'd better begin.