Mitchell's great joy was to make his parties different from others by
some childish fantasy or other. He especially delighted in a surprise.
He often took the trouble (for instance) to have a telegram sent to
every one of his guests during the course of the evening. Each of these
wires contained some personal chaff or practical joke. At other times
he would give everyone little presents, concealed in some way.
Christmas didn't come once a year to the Mitchells; it seemed never to
go away. One was always surprised not to find a Christmas tree and
crackers. These entertainments, always splendidly done materially, and
curiously erratic socially, were sometimes extremely amusing; at
others, of course, a frost; it was rather a toss-up.

And the guests were, without exception, the most extraordinary mixture
in London. They included delightful people, absurd people, average
people; people who were smart and people who were dowdy, some who were
respectable and nothing else, some who were deplorable, others
beautiful, and many merely dull. There was never the slightest attempt
at any sort of harmonising, or of suitability; there was a great deal
of kindness to the hard-up, and a wild and extravagant delight in any
novelty. In fact, the Mitchells were everything except exclusive, and
as they were not guided by any sort of rule, they really lived, in St
John's Wood, superior to suburban or indeed any other restrictions.
They would ask the same guests to dinner time after time, six or seven
times in succession. They would invite cordially a person of no
attraction whatsoever whom they had only just met, and they would
behave with casual coolness to desirable acquaintances or favourite
friends whom they had known all their lives. However, there was no
doubt that their parties had got the name for being funny, and that was
quite enough. London people in every set are so desperate for something