A Memorial Day Weekend Gala to Benefit Miracle House On the deck of the Bridgehampton Tennis and Surf Club. BEFORE she played herself on TV as a real housewife of New York, and before she became a countess through marriage and remained one after the divorce, LuAnn de Lesseps was a registered nurse from Connecticut. But she arrived in an electric blue dress, not a starched white uniform, for the annual Memorial Day weekend debut for Miracle House, held last Saturday at the Bridgehampton Tennis and Surf Club. "If anyone has a heart attack here tonight, I'm on it," she said. It wasn't completely unlikely, given the median age of the male-dominated crowd, who paid $1,000 or more to support a nonprofit that was founded in response to H.I.V. but has since expanded its mission to offer housing and support to other needy patients. Over pounding house music, intensely tanned men with intensely white teeth and intensely summery outfits stormed the bar so intensely that one of the bartenders was sweating. "It's like being run over," he said. Nearby Carl Bernstein, the author and journalist, looked like a happy heterosexual interloper in a white cardigan that matched his hair, with Christine Bernstein, his wife, at his side. They were the event's honorees and had come from their North Haven home near Sag Harbor. "It's much quieter over there," Ms. Bernstein said. Mr. Bernstein added, "The ocean side is always noisier." He didn't mean the roar of the surf outside. Over a noisy and festive dinner of herb-crusted salmon, the countess and Thomas Roberts, the MSNBC anchor, held court as hosts. They gave the Bernsteins awards for their support and gave another to Jeffrey Pfeifle, the former president of J. Crew. "I was raised a Catholic, but I always wanted a bar mitzvah," Mr. Pfeifle said, as waiters filled wineglasses. And I think I'm having one tonight. Later there was a boisterous live auction that fell just short of a harangue. "Money can't buy you class, but it can buy you some great auction items tonight," said the countess, reprising a line from her music single. George McNeely of Christie's worked the crowd, unloading art, trips and show tickets. The last item of the evening was lunch for six at the home of the countess herself. He started the bidding at $2,000 and had an offer. But getting the price up by $500 wasn't so easy. "Oh, come on, boys," the countess said into her microphone. After that, getting to $3,000 felt like pulling teeth. The countess continued showing hers. "What's going on?" she asked with a big smile. "Europe's melted down," Mr. McNeely told her. She, however, did not. And, having had her lunch offer sold for $3,000, she graciously thanked the crowd, left the stage and returned to her table. "You're worth at least $10,000," one guest told her. She laughed and liberally applied some lipstick with a brush. "All for a good cause," she said. And when you put yourself on display for a living, all in a day's work, too.