As I look back through my experience of eighteen years, I realize that many of my apprehensions have been foolish, because so many of the things that I dreaded turned out all right. Almost every one of the parties I thought would be stiff--and I am not very happy at the sort!--proved to be the kind where every one grew lively. I remember one that Elaine McDonald had, particularly, because I had said to mother, “I don’t want to go. They’ll all wear gloves and it will be _miserable_!” But I did go, and they had a Paul Jones that was so rough that they broke a chair and knocked over a table, and it was _fine_! While, on the other hand, there have been parties that I thought would be nice and in…
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