For, when the clear-seeing outsider looks into “Society,” and studies the members who make up the little clique, he is smitten with thoughts that lie too deep for tears—­or laughter.  A perfectly fresh mind, when brought to bear on the “Society” phenomenon, asks, “What are these people?  What have they done?  What are they particularly fitted for?  Is there anything noble about them?  Is their conversation at all charming?  Are any of them really happy?” And to all of these queries the most disappointing answers must be returned.  Take the men.  Here is a marquis who is a Knight of the Garter.  He has held offices in several Cabinets; he can control the votes spread over a very large slice of a county, and his income amounts to some trifle like one hundred and eighty thousand pounds per year.  We may surely expect something of the superb aristocratic grace here, and surely a chance word of wit may drop from a man who has been in the most influential of European assemblies!  Alas!  The potentate crosses his hand over his comfortable stomach, and his contributions to the entertainment of the evening amount to occasional ejaculations of “Ugh!  Ugh!” “Hah!” “Hey!” “Exactly!” “Ugh!  Ugh!” In the higher spheres of intellect and breeding I have no doubt but that “Ugh!  Ugh!” “Hah!” “Hey!” may have some profound significance; but, to say the least, it is not obviously weighty.  The marchioness is sweet in manner, grave, reposeful, and with a flash of wit at disposal—­not too obvious wit—­that would offend against the canon which ordains restraint; but she might, one thinks, become tiresome in an hour.  No one could say that her manners were anything but absolutely simple, yet the very simplicity is so obviously maintained as a sort of gymnastic effort that it tires us only to study it.  Then here is a viscount, graceful, well-set, easy in his pose, talking with a deep voice, and lisping to the faintest degree.  He has owned some horses, caused some scandals, waltzed some waltzes, and eaten a very large number of good dinners:  he has been admired by many, hated by many, threatened by many, and he would not be admitted to any refined middle-class home; yet here he is in his element, and no one would think of questioning his presence.  He never uttered a really wise or helpful word in his life, he never did anything save pamper himself—­his precious self—­and yet he is in “Society,” and reckoned as rather an authority too!  These are only types, but, if you run through them all, you must discover that only the sweet and splendid girls who have not had time to be spoilt and soured are worth thinking about.  If there is dancing, it is of course carried out with perfect grace and composure; if there is merely an assembly, every one looks as well as possible, and every one stares at every one else with an air as indifferent as possible.  But the child of nature asks in wild bewilderment, “Where on earth does the human companionship come in?” Young girls are nowadays beginning to expect bright