I returned from my twice-weekly visit to Mr. Astor's country estate (with a brand new outfit and shoes, mind you) to find The Palace a beehive of anticipation for the "ER" party this Sunday. Great expectations have developed and inquiries were rampant about who would be a doctor, a nurse, a paramedic, and--especially--a patient in need of a rectal exam. According to one well-placed source, the area thrift stores and novelty shops were having a run on medical outfits and any symbol of The Red Cross. This fit neatly into Leopoldo's experience while trying to check out the pair of white high heels. "Do you really want them," said the poor soul. "I need them for my nurse uniform."

Another hotbed of thought was the imminent arrival of The Countess Bedelia; questions were asked about what to wear and how to act upon her entrance. I replied, "Careening drunk and dancing like a fool would make her feel at home." Everyone already knows The Countess's penchant for fun, but of concern also was the question of whether my sister du Barry was going to accompany Bedelia. It seems that tax agents are in pursuit the great lady much in the way they were of Casanova. Still, I can't believe a woman of such snobbery as du Barry would let a competing countess steal the show; she IS from Newport.

So, all looks good for visits from many dignitaries this weekend including our dear Pimpernel from England. It will certainly be a week of conspicuous consumption for all.