The Formal Invitation.—A dinner-party is the most formal and most important of all social functions. We may invite all our acquaintances to a ball or a reception. We may select more carefully for our teas and luncheons, but the dinner is reserved as the greatest compliment to be paid those we wish to honor. Therefore an immediate acceptance or regret must be sent, and nothing but illness, accident or death should prevent us from presenting ourselves. If such obstacles intervene, immediate notice should be given the hostess, that she may supply the place at her table thus made vacant.
Do not write you will "try to come;" that you will come but your husband will not be able to do so, or in any way make your acceptance conditional. Your hostess may wish to invite another couple; she must know who will be present that she may arrange her table accordingly. Nothing is so annoying to a hostess as to be obliged to rearrange her table because of some slight excuse on the part of a guest who has once accepted,
Do not forget that an invitation to dinner is the highest social compliment, and value it accordingly; also answer at once.
Formulas for Invitations.
The formula for a dinner invitation is this:
Mr. and Mrs. John Henry Smithrequest the pleasure ofMr. and Mrs. George Brown's company at dinner,127 Blank Avenue.on March fifteenth at seven o'clock.
This invitation may be written on note paper or engraved on a card.
The correct form of reply is this:
Mr. and Mrs. George Brownaccept with pleasure the polite invitation ofMr. and Mrs. John Henry Smith for dinneron March fifteenth, at seven o'clock.
If the dinner is in honor of guests, the formula may be:
To meetMr. and Mrs. William Dash,Mr. and Mrs. John Henry Smith request the pleasure ofMiss Anderson'scompany at dinner,on Wednesday, January twenty-sixth,at seven o'clock.R. S. V. P. 91 East Ninety-fourth street.
If the invitation must be declined, this form may be observed:
Mr. and Mrs. Brownregret that owing to a previous engagementthey are unable to acceptMr. and Mrs. John Henry Smith'svery kind invitationfor Tuesday evening, March fifteenth.
Any other reason, as illness, proposed absence, or the like, may be substituted for a "previous engagement."
In acknowledging invitations it is better to err on the side of over-politeness than the reverse.
If a dance or theatre party is to follow the dinner, words indicating the fact are written across the lower part of the card or in the lower left-hand corner.
"R. s v. p." stands for the French phrase, "Respondez, sit vous plait,"—meaning that a reply is desired.
Replies.—The reply to an invitation should be in the same form as the invitation; thus if in the third person the reply should also be made in the third person. Such invitations are the most formal. The reply is to be addressed according to the wording of the invitation: thus if Mr. and Mrs. John Henry Smith issue it, address the reply to them; if Mrs. John Henry Smith's name alone appears, address it to her. The same rule applies to a wedding invitation. The acknowledgement is sent to the parties issuing the invitation, not to those to be married.
Must Not Ask Invitations.—It is not allowable to ask for an invitation to a dinner, a luncheon or a card party for a guest or friend. These are functions arranged for a definite number of guests; to include another person is not possible. If your hostess knows you have a guest, she will, if her arrangements make it practicable, include her; if not, there is no slight to you or your guest. The presence of a guest does not excuse one from a dinner, luncheon or card party, the invitation having been already accepted. Provide some pleasure for your friend, or leave her to a quiet evening at home.
In case a guest drops out at the last moment, as sometimes happens, one may ask a very intimate friend, a relative, or some member of the family to fill the vacant seat. Such a "last minute" invitation is no compliment: one knows she is simply a substitute, but good sense and kindliness should prompt the recipient to help out in the dilemma, which may happen to her next time.
Other Particulars.—Dinner invitations are issued in the name of the host and hostess, so also those for luncheons to which both men and women are invited. Invitations to teas, card and garden parties, "at homes," balls, and women's luncheons are in the name of the hostess alone.
Guests should present themselves punctually at the hour named in a dinner or luncheon invitation, allowing themselves just time to remove wraps, etc., before the meal is announced. It is almost unpardonable to be late.
Invitations are sent to people in mourning after the month following bereavement, not because acceptance is expected, but as a compliment, except that cards for dinners, luncheons and balls are not sent. Wedding cards and announcements, and cards for large general receptions are sent. During the year of mourning people thus remembered send cards with a narrow black border in acknowledgment.
Unless an entertainment is exclusively for women, an invitation to a married woman should include her husband. That he is personally unknown to the hostess does not matter.
Invitations by telephone are permissible for informal affairs, but why a woman should spend hours at the telephone, calling up various parties and losing her temper over "Central's" dilatoriness when she could sit comfortably at her desk and write notes, is difficult to understand.
Whereas the formal luncheon invitation simply substitutes the word "luncheon" for "dinner," the informal invitation is written in the first person and requires a reply in the same form. It may be said again that the response should follow the form of the invitation; this is an invariable rule. This model is usually employed:
My dear Mrs. Henderson:Will you and Mr. Henderson dine with us informally on Tuesdayevening, January twenty-seventh, at half-past six o'clock?Trusting we may have the pleasure of seeing you, I am,Yours sincerely,Mary Bronson.
In reply the recipient will write:
My dear Mrs. Bronson:Mr. Henderson and I accept, with much pleasure your very kindinvitation to dine with you on Tuesday evening, Januarytwenty-seventh, at half past six o'clock.Yours sincerely,Helen Henderson.
If the invitation is for luncheon, that word is substituted; afternoon written in the place of evening, and Mr. Henderson is left out. In an acceptance, one should repeat the date and hour, that no mistake may occur. If the invitation must be declined, it is not correct to explain the nature of the engagement or whatever reason occurs for refusal. We say we "are unable to accept," not that we "will not be able;" the refusal rests in the present.
An invitation sent by mail is enclosed in an envelope addressed to Mr. andMrs. A., and then in an outer envelope bearing full name and address.Informal notes of invitation are written on one's best note-paper and noouter envelope used.
Afternoon Tea.—The afternoon tea is a favorite method of paying off social debts. Elaborate refreshments are not served. Tea is poured at the dining table, by some friends asked to do so—it is thought quite a compliment to be asked "to pour" For a very informal "at home" the hostess may have a small table at hand and herself offer a cup of tea to her visitors. For such a small affair she sends her visiting card with the date written in the lower left hand corner. If many guests are expected servants must be at hand to remove soiled dishes and replenish the tea and cakes.
In acknowledgment of invitations, it is highly improper to send your card with "regrets" written on it. An invitation is a courtesy offered; it must be received courteously. You regret you "must decline the pleasure" of accepting somebody's "kind—or polite—invitation."
The Verbal Invitation.—Verbal invitations do not count for much. "Come and dine with us some day" has no standing among invitations. The day and hour must be named if it is to be reckoned with. And then—suppose the hostess forgets she has given the invitation, or she prepares for a guest who does not come! Except among very intimate friends the verbal invitation should be looked upon with great caution. A verbal invitation should be followed by a note repeating it.
The number of wedding invitations often must conform to the size of the church or the house, and to the character of the wedding. If it is to be a large one, cards are usually sent as liberally as possible. An invitation to the church may not invite to the reception at the house afterwards, which may necessarily be limited because of the size of the house or the means of the family. No guest receiving cards for the church should let herself feel aggrieved because of failure to receive the other. Answers to invitations should invariably be sent; many omit this, not thinking it necessary, but why not?
Announcement cards are sent to everyone you know, or, more properly, to all those whom you wish to recognize socially. It is quite correct to send them to people you know but slightly. They are mailed immediately after the wedding. They imply no obligation in the way of gift or reply. If an "at home" card is enclosed, calls are expected.
Correct Form.
Wedding invitations of course must be engraved. The following form is employed:
Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Harmonrequest the honor of your presenceat the marriage of their daughterHarriettoMr. Harrison Richard Ameson Thursday, the sixth of January,at twelve o'clock.Church of the Messiah.
If the wedding is at home, the street and number are given in place of the church.
If the bride has no mother, the invitations are issued in the name of the father; if no father, the mother's name is used. If an orphan, invitations are issued in the name of the nearest of kin in the town where the wedding occurs. If a married sister and her husband issue, the words "their sister" are used. If a girl has a stepfather her own name is engraved in full. Announcement cards follow the same rules as to who issues them, and are couched in these words:
Mr. and Mrs. Hughson Smithannounce the marriage of their sisterBettinatoMr. James Rhodes Grayson,on Monday, the tenth of January,Nineteen hundred and ten,at the Church of the Messiah,in the City of Cleveland.
For a home wedding, this formula is correct:
My dear Mrs. Jennings:My daughter Julia is to be married to Mr. George Bronson Holmes onMonday, the tenth of January, at twelve o'clock, and it will give Mr.Brush and myself much pleasure if you and Mr. Jennings will come.Yours sincerely,Eleanor Graves Brush.
For informal church weddings, with small reception to follow, or for a simple home wedding, most people prefer to use the engraved cards, but personal notes may with perfect propriety take their place. For a home wedding, the above formula is correct.
The Bridegroom's Family.
In inviting the bridegroom's parents by note, the mother may write: "Will you and Mr. Holmes come to the quiet informal wedding of my daughter Julia and your son on Monday," etc. Such invitations are written by the mother. Other members of the family are included by adding "you and Mr. Jennings and your daughter will come." Written invitations may follow the form of the engraved, but for a small wedding at home, which will be of course more or less informal, the personal form seems more in keeping.
Other Items.
Formal wedding invitations and announcements are addressed, one to the head of the family, Mr. and Mrs. Jones; one to Miss Jones, or to The Misses Jones, if there are several daughters, and one to each young man of the family.
Note that the year is given in an announcement, but not in an invitation.Announcements are engraved on note-paper, as in the case of invitations.
A double wedding, which requires two ceremonies, also requires two sets of invitations and announcements.
It is quite correct for a girl who has been employed in an office to send an announcement of her marriage to her former employer, but if he is married, it must be addressed to "Mr. and Mrs." So-and-So.
Do not abbreviate in writing notes of invitation, nor permit it on engraved invitations. Doctor, Judge, Reverend, are to be in full. Mr. before a man's name is the only abbreviation permitted. The names of the month, day, year, and of the street or avenue are written out in full.
"A fig for your bill of fare; show me your bill of company,"
As has already been remarked, we ask our "dear Five Hundred" to our balls and receptions, reserving our dinner invitations for those whom we particularly wish to compliment. The dinner we provide is by no means of the comfortable "pot-Iuck" kind. It is, in society, an elaborate and expensive form of entertainment. A dinner to eight people, not specially elaborate and without wines, rarely costs the giver less than $25 or $30, and may easily run much higher. It requires delicacies for the palate, flowers and bonbons and other decorations for the table, and ceremonious serving. The finest of linen, cut glass and silver adorn it, and the repast may easily be prolonged through two or more hours. Such a dinner is served in courses; begins with an appetizer, extends through soup, fish, joint, salad and dessert courses at the very least, and ends with coffee, served at the table or in some other apartment—the library or drawing room—where the guests converse over their cups.
Such a meal cannot be prepared or served without competent service in the kitchen and dining-room. The cook must know how to prepare every dish in the best manner, and have it ready at the right moment; the waiter must be experienced and noiseless. The hostess must have such perfect confidence that everything will progress in perfect and proper order that she can give her full attention to the guests,
Serving the Dinner.—Let us suppose a dinner for eight people is to be served. The ceremonious dinner, the world over, is served a la Russe, that is, according to the Russian fashion. By this fashion nothing but the covers—a term which includes the china, silver and glass at each plate—flowers, dishes of bonbons, salted nuts and olives, occasionally small cakes, are on the table when the guests are seated,
The hostess has inspected the table, after it is laid, seeing that everything is correct, Silver must have had a fresh polish, the cut glass must shine and sparkle, There must be plenty of light, yet no glare; to prevent this, ground glass globes on the electric lights are preferred. The hostess herself will arrange the place cards, separating married people, and in so far as possible so seating her guests that each may be pleased with his or her neighbor. The centerpiece is of flowers; for this never choose a strongly scented flower like hyacinths or narcissi. The heat, the odor of the food, combined with the scent of the flowers, may induce lethargy, so that the dinner may be "garnished with stupidity."
There must be a service plate at each place. These are to be as handsome as you can afford. At the side of this is laid the dinner napkin, within which a roll is folded. The guest removes the napkin, unfolding it for use. The waitress removes the service plate and puts down another on which is a grapefruit, vermouth, or other kind of cocktail. This plate and glass removed, there comes another plate, and little dishes of caviarre are passed. These plates also disappear, others are substituted, and soup is served. After the soup is eaten the soup plates are removed, leaving the other plates, and celery and radishes and salted nuts and olives are passed, not necessarily all, but at least two, say celery and olives; nuts and radishes. If the little individual almond dishes are used, of course the salted nuts will not be passed.
These plates are again changed when the fish is served, the rule being that at no time during the dinner must a guest be without a plate before him until the table is cleared for dessert. Moreover, the waitress, in placing plates that have a monogram or heraldic device for decoration, must so place the plate before each guest that the design faces him. In taking up the plates, one is taken up with the right hand while with the left the waitress replaces it with another; one plate is never placed upon another.
The fish, meat, and other courses are served from the pantry, the portions being arranged for convenience in helping, and garnished with parsley or lemon. The dish is passed first to the guest seated at the host's right hand, next to the one on the left, and afterwards in regular rotation, irrespective of sex. All service is at the left; this leaves the guest's right hand in position to help himself. The waitress holds the dish upon a folded napkin on the flat of her hand, and low down. Vegetables are passed in the same fashion.
You will see how much depends upon having well trained servants at such a dinner. The service must be without haste, yet without delay; there must be no clatter of china and silver, no awkwardness in removing plates, etc. The waitress must be quick to refill glasses or supply whatever is needed.
The Help Required.—A dinner to twelve or fourteen guests cannot be served properly without two or three waiters—usually men at such large dinners—and additional help in the kitchen. So much thought and anxiety are required for the success of a home dinner party that it is small wonder many prefer to add a little to the expense, in cities at least, and order a dinner for the requisite number at hotel or club, where the responsibility rests with the management after the details of the menu are settled. Such a dinner is less of a compliment to one's guests than the entertainment at one's own home, however; and why should one possess stores of beautiful and expensive furnishings without their use?
One dinner generally means another a short time afterwards, since in selecting the small number who can be entertained one must necessarily leave out others who have equal claims to hospitality and whose sense of being slighted must be appeased. And if the hostess is socially prominent she may find herself embarked on a course of entertainments that will tax her time and her funds to a considerable degree.
Invitations to a dinner must be sent at least two weeks in advance. As has already been stated, an immediate and unconditional acceptance or regret is demanded.
Precedence.—At these formal dinners, the question of precedence engages the hostess's attention, If all the guests are about on equal terms, the host takes out the oldest or most prominent lady, seating her at his right. The other, guests are paired off according to the hostess's ideas of social propriety or congeniality. No man ever takes his wife in to dinner. The place of honor for men is at the hostess's right hand. Dinner cards, legibly written, are placed on the napkins. The men draw out the chairs and seat the ladies, then seat themselves. Generally, at a small dinner, the hostess tells each man before leaving the drawing room, whom he is to take out: at large functions, he finds in the men's cloak room an envelope addressed to him containing the lady's name. He seeks out his partner and gives her his arm when dinner is announced.
Be Prompt.—It is almost unpardonable for a guest to be late at a dinner. The arrival should be within fifteen minutes of the time named on the invitation, never earlier. The hostess must be ready in ample time, and must appear calm and untroubled. Nervousness bespeaks the novice in entertaining. Generally, however, even if the affair passes off without any contretemps she is ready to say "Thank heaven it's over!"
Now this is not to say that one may not serve a good and very enjoyable dinner or luncheon to a few friends, without as much trouble and expense as are here indicated. This is simply to state how such meals are served, formally and informally. Knowing the proper procedure one may adopt as much or as little as her circumstances and style of living warrant.
The informal dinner resembles the formal, save that fewer courses are served, the menu is simpler, and the decorations less elaborate. The serving is on the same order—a la Russe. If one is fortunate enough to have a maid who combines the experience of a waitress with the qualities of a good cook, by ingenious planning it is possible to serve six persons acceptably in the approved fashion.
But there are thousands of households in which but one maid is kept, and in this case what may be termed "the family dinner" will be found better, because there will be no endeavor to do more than one can accomplish with the means at her command. Better by far serve well and simply than attempt something more elaborate and fall short in it.
Family Dinners.—At the family dinner, the grape fruit or oyster cocktail, or the raw oysters which form the first course, is on the table when the guests are seated. The grape fruit may be served in glasses, like the cocktail. If oysters are served, the maid passes the condiments. She then removes these plates, replacing them with service plates as she does so, and brings in the soup. This the hostess serves and the maid carries about. While this is being eaten—celery or olives being passed after the guests are helped—the maid slips out in the kitchen to dish up the vegetables unless these are already in the warmer. Returning, she removes the soup-plates, never taking more than two at a time. She then brings on the joint or roast, placing it before the host, who proceeds to serve it. (If oysters are served first, a fish course is generally omitted; indeed, so many courses tax one's resources too severely.) The maid carries about the dinner plates, removing the service plate with the right hand and placing the other with the left. She then passes the vegetables. The serving begins with the lady at the host's right hand. If the piece de resistance is a turkey, white and dark meat and a portion of dressing are placed on each plate; gravy and the vegetables, then cranberry or currant jelly, are passed. Here the waitress should refill water glasses.
The plates are then removed for the salad course, and the table cleared. This should be ready on the plates, and kept where it will be perfectly cold. While this is being brought on, the hostess will start dishes of salted nuts and bonbons down the table, the guests passing them. After the salad the plates are removed and the dessert brought in. This may be a mould of ice cream or a pudding; pie is seldom or never served. This the host or hostess serves. The coffee service may be brought in, and the hostess pours it; little cakes or wafers, or mints, are usually passed with it; then the maid is excused from further service. The hostess always gives the signal for leaving the table by a slight nod toward the lady on her husband's right, and rising.
Requirements.—A dinner of this kind requires a serving-table or sideboard where china and silver may be in readiness. Such an aid is even more indispensable where the hostess serves the meal herself. Many very enjoyable "company dinners" are served where the hostess is also the cook, and she and her husband serve. If one has daughters they should be taught how to serve, and may rise from the table to change plates and bring in courses with perfect propriety. In such case, the soup is served at the table and, as it is awkward to pass without spilling, some one should carry it about if more than two or three guests are present. The roast or fowl is carved by the host; vegetables are on the table and are passed from hand to hand. After this course the hostess, or the daughter delegated to do this, clears the table and brings in the salad. The dessert follows. Coffee is occasionally served with the meat course, but it is better to bring it on with the dessert. Cups, etc., should be in readiness on the side table, to be transferred to the table. There should be an apparent absence of formality at such a meal, though everything should progress in regular order, systematically, quietly, without orders or clash. Above all things, see that everything likely to be wanted is at hand; nothing looks worse than someone jumping up to get some article that has been forgotten. If dishes, spoons or forks must be washed during the progress of the meal, have warm water ready in the kitchen, wash them quickly, and wipe them out of cold water; then their heat will not betray your limited resources.
Setting the Table.—The "best cloth" and napkins are brought out for the dinner party. The cloth must be laid with mathematical exactness, its center exactly on the center of the table. The centerpiece, almost invariably of flowers, only occasionally of fruit, is also exactly placed. This should be low; it is awkward not to be able to see one's vis-a-vis, and the hostess should be able to command an uninterrupted view of her table, so that if the waitress omits any service she may by a glance direct her to supply it. The arrangement should be graceful and pretty, and, in summer, garden flowers may be used with propriety. The flowers give the keynote of the color scheme; dinner cards, bonbons, ices and creams and the decorations of the small cakes usually served with the dessert, conform to it. Candelabra are less used than at one time, but are by no means "out." A handsome silver candelabra may be used as a centerpiece, its base banked in flowers. On a square or oblong table, candlesticks with shades give a touch of color that relieves the whiteness of napery and glass.
There is a plate—your handsomest—at each place; a napkin squarely folded and lying flat; a row of forks at the left, oyster fork outside, then fish fork, dinner and salad fork, four in all, laid in the order in which they will be used. Knives are at the right of the napkin, always two, a large and a small one. Fashion has re-introduced the steel-bladed knife for the meat course; it is surprising to notice how much more tender meat is than it used to be when we tried to cut it with the silver knives. The soup-spoon is laid at the top of the plate. The salad fork may be brought in with the salad if preferred, spoons with the dessert and coffee. Grape fruit is eaten with an orange spoon, laid at the right. No "fancy folding" of napkins is permissible. The glasses stand at the top of the plate, a little to the right. Small cut glass or fancy dishes containing the relishes are placed near the corners of the table within the circle of plates if the table is square; if it is round they are so arranged so as to balance each other in the form of a square. There may be two of nuts and two of stuffed olives or of bonbons. Individual salt cellars are at the top of the plate; a roll is folded in the napkin, sometimes laid on the bread-and-butter plate, which is placed at the left. Such rolls should be small and well-baked. At formal dinners no butter is served, and the plates are omitted. Finger bowls are brought in after the ices or the pudding. They are on a small plate on which is a doily, and the fruit knife, if to be used, is on the plate. The guest lays bowl and doily at his right, lifting the two together, the plate being for fruit, if any is served. If no fruit, the bowl is left on the plate.
The luncheon is a less elaborate function than the dinner, but ranks next it in point of compliment and display. The "stand-up" or buffet luncheon is much less popular than formerly, in fact even at the so-called buffet luncheons the guests are now seated at small tables accommodating four. Invitations are sent out ten days or two weeks in advance, and require prompt replies.
Formal Luncheons.—Save in a less elaborate menu, the formal luncheon differs very little from the dinner, except that the latter is at seven o'clock, and the luncheon almost invariably at one. The menu generally begins with grape fruit, served in glasses on small plates and doilies, and on the table when the guests are seated. An orange spoon is used. The table is set as for dinner, save that less silver is laid. Bouillon, served in bouillon cups, with a spoon on the saucer may follow. Then may come lobster a la Newburg; sweet-breads and peas; salad; ices and coffee. In place of the sweet-breads one may serve squab on toast, fillet of beef, or broiled chicken; peas, beets, and potatoes cut in balls and cooked in deep fat may accompany anyone of these. The meat, cut in portions, and surrounded by mounds of the vegetables, is often served from a large platter, from which the guests help themselves. The hostess is served first; this is, that, in case any unfamiliar dish is served, she may show how it is to be handled. The lady on her right is next in order of serving. The same etiquette in regard to serving, changing plates, etc., is observed as at the dinner, save that the rolls are on bread-and-butter plates instead of being folded in the napkin. The decorations, ornamental dishes, candies, and the like are used as at a dinner.
Minor Particulars.—The roast never figures at a luncheon; the courses consist largely of what are called entrees, the idea being that the repast is of a lighter character than a dinner. The salad is a special feature; it may be chicken, Waldorf, fruit, or any kind preferred, but must be carefully studied in its relation to the other dishes.
The guests keep on their hats during the luncheon, removing the gloves as they are seated; at an informal luncheon the gloves are removed in the dressing room.
Very often bridge or some other card game follows the luncheon. If not, guests are not expected to remain more than half an hour after leaving the table.
The luncheon—never say lunch—is a favorite form of entertainment for girls. In this case the dishes served are light and delicate. Mushrooms on toast, oyster patties or croquettes, a salad, and ices; the menu prefaced by grape fruit and bouillon, are often thought sufficient for a girl's luncheon. Sweets are served freely for them.
It is no longer thought correct to go to extremes in carrying out a "color scheme." Sandwiches are not tied up with ribbons, nor cakes colored to correspond with the preferred hue. Flowers, ices, and the decorations on the small cakes passed with the dessert are quite sufficient. Candles, if used, should have shades to correspond.
Large Luncheons.—The large luncheon has few friends these days; it is too heterogeneous an affair. Those invited feel it is an easy way of paying off social obligations; few find it entirely enjoyable. There is more or less of a crush; one experiences difficulty in finding a table and being served; it is not appetizing to note evidences that others have eaten at the same table and departed. And one is likely to be seated with the wrong people and thus miss much that belongs with and makes pleasant the smaller affair.
No woman need hesitate at inviting a few friends to have luncheon with her. She may prepare a simple meal, and if it is nicely served and she herself gives the cordiality and the conversational impetus that "keeps things going," her guests will find it enjoyable. She may adopt as much of the regular method of serving as befits her home and its resources, but she must make her table as beautiful as possible, and she must not serve "stewed hostess."
We have seen how a table should be laid and a meal served; now let us see how it should be eaten:
There is no situation in which one's good breeding is so much in evidence as at the table. For that reason, mothers should begin to train their children in infancy to correct usage. As soon as a child is able to hold a spoon and fork, he should be taught how to hold them properly, and the training should be continued until the right habit is established.
One should not be seated until the lady of the house is seated, unless especially requested to do so. Children should observe this rule as rigidly as that which requires the removal of the hat on entering the house.
At the Table.—On being seated, the napkin is unfolded and laid across the lap. It is more correct to only unfold one-half, that is, open it at the center fold. One is not supposed to require further protection than from the accidental crumb. On no account should it be used as a bib, or be tucked in the dress or waistcoat.
Grape fruit is eaten from an orange spoon. If oysters are served raw, they must not be cut but eaten whole.
Soup must be taken from the side of the spoon, quietly, with no hissing or other sound, nor should the spoon be so full that it drips over. The motion of the spoon in filling it, is away from instead of towards the person; and tilting the plate to secure the last spoonful is bad form. Crackers are never served with soup: croutons—small squares of bread toasted very hard and brown, or small H. & P. biscuits are passed. These are never put into the soup, but are eaten from the hand. Neither soup nor fish should be offered the second time.
Fish is generally eaten with a fork and a bit of bread, though silver fish knives are in occasional use. The entree which follows the fish should be eaten with the fork only. A mouthful of meat is cut as required; it is never buried in potato or any vegetable and then conveyed to the mouth. Vegetables are no longer served in "birds' bath-tubs," as some wit once called the individual vegetable dishes, but are cooked sufficiently dry to be served on the plate with the meat. All vegetables are eaten with the fork, so also jellies, chutney, etc., served with the meat course.
Using the Fork.—The fork laid farthest from the plate is to be used for the first course requiring such a utensil; the others are used in their order. The knife is held in the right hand; by the handle, not the blade. The fork should not be held like a spoon, or a shovel, but more as one would hold a pencil or pen; it is raised laterally to the mouth. The elbow is not to be projected, or crooked outward, in using either knife or fork; that is a very awkward performance. The fork should never be over-burdened. The knife is never lifted to the mouth; it is said that "only members of the legislature eat pie with a knife nowadays." The handle of neither knife or fork may rest on the table nor the former be laid across the edge of the plate.
Tender meat, like the breast of chickens, may be cut with the fork. A bone is never taken in the fingers, the historic anecdote about Queen Victoria to the contrary notwithstanding. The table manners of the twentieth century are not Early Victorian. Olives and celery are correctly laid on the bread-and-butter plate. The former is never dipped in one's salt cellar; a small portion of salt is put on the edge of the plate; both are eaten from the fingers.
Vegetables, Fruits, etc.—Green corn is seldom served on the cob at ceremonious dinners. If it is served, it is to be broken in medium-sized pieces and eaten from the cob, a rather messy process, and one not pretty to observe. The fastidious avoid it. If eaten, the piece is held between the fingers of one hand. To take an unbroken ear in both hands and gnaw the length of it suggests the manners of an animal never named in polite society.
It is correct to take up asparagus by the stalk, and eat it from the fingers, but the newer and more desirable custom is to cut off the edible portion with knife and fork. Lettuce is never cut with a knife; a fork is used, the piece rolled up and conveyed to the mouth.
Hard cheese may be eaten from the fingers; soft cheeses, like Neufchatel, Brie, and the like, are eaten with the fork, or a bit is spread on a morsel of bread and conveyed to the mouth with the fingers.
A soft cake is eaten with a fork. The rule is that whatever can be eaten with a fork shall be so eaten.
Roman punch and sherbets require a spoon. Berries, peaches and cream, custards, preserves, jellies, call for the spoon. Strawberries are often served as a first course in their season. They are then arranged with their hulls and a portion of stem left on, dipped in powdered sugar and eaten from the fingers. A little mound of the sugar is pressed into shape in the center of the small plate and the berries laid around it.
Peaches, pears, and apples are peeled with the fruit knife, cut in quarters or eighths, and eaten from the fingers. Bananas are stripped of the skin, cut in pieces with a fork and eaten from it. Oranges are cut in two across the sections and eaten with an orange spoon. Plums, like olives, are eaten by biting off the pulp without taking the stone in the mouth. Pineapple, unless shredded or cut up, requires both knife and fork; it is usually prepared for more convenient eating. Grapes, which should be washed by letting water from the faucet run over them and laid on a folded towel until the moisture drips off, are eaten from behind the half-closed hand, which receives the skins and seeds, then to be deposited on the plate.
If the small cup of coffee—the demi-tasse—is served, the small after-dinner coffee spoon is necessary. Cream is seldom served with the black coffee—cafe noir—with which a meal concludes, cut loaf sugar is passed.
The Spoon.—The spoon must never be left in the cup, no matter what beverage is served. Most of us have seen some absent-minded individual (we will charitably suppose him absent-minded instead of ignorant), stir his coffee round and round and round, creating a miniature whirlpool and very likely slopping it over into the saucer; then, prisoning the spoon with a finger, drink half the cup's contents at a gulp. To do this is positively vulgar. Stir the coffee or tea very slightly, just enough to stir the cream and sugar with it, then drink in sips. To take either from the teaspoon is bad form. Bread is broken, not cut, and only a small portion buttered at a time. Do not play with bread crumbs or spoon, etc., during the progress of a meal. Leave knife and fork on the plate, handles side by side, when it is passed for a second helping, and at a conclusion of a course, or the meal, lay them in the same position, points of the fork upward.
Finger Bowls.—When finger bowls are brought, the tips of the fingers are dipped in the bowl and dried on the napkin. Men may lift the moistened fingers to the lips; women seldom do this, but wipe the lips with the napkin. At any function the napkin is not folded, but laid at the side of the plate at the conclusion of the repast. If a guest for a day or so, or for more than one meal, note what your hostess does with her napkin and follow her. If a guest at only one meal, never fold the napkin. Be careful not to throw it down so carelessly that it is stained with coffee, fruit, or fruit juices; your hostess will thank you for your consideration.
Be ready to rise when your hostess rises; you do not push your chair into place; simply rise and leave it. Rise on the side of your chair so you will not have to go around it in following your hostess to the drawing room.
When invitations are sent out for a reception, the recipient dons her handsomest afternoon gown for the occasion. This may be a dressy tailored suit; by this is meant one not severely simple; or she may wear some handsome trained gown under a long coat. Small cards for presentation at the door are sometimes enclosed with invitations to a large reception or buffet luncheon, since "the pushers" have been known to present themselves at such functions without having been invited. These cards are handed to the man who opens the carriage door. An awning extends from the door to the curb, and strips of carpet are laid under it, A maid opens the door and directs guests to the dressing room, where wraps are laid aside, hats and gloves being retained.
Receiving.—The hostess stands near the door of the drawing room, welcoming her guests with hand and smile. Next to her stand the ladies who receive with her. During the hour of arrival there is seldom opportunity for more than a word of greeting, and one should not linger but pass on down the line. A reception is often given to some visiting stranger, who is introduced by the hostess.
The guests then circulate through the rooms, greeting acquaintances, and drifting eventually to the dining room, where refreshments are served. They may stay as long as they find it agreeable, within the hours named on the card of invitation, but people seldom stay more than an hour.
The hostess remains near the door after the rush is over to greet the belated guest and bid adieu to those who are leaving.
Decorations.—It is usual to decorate the rooms with flowers, and the services of the florist as well as the caterer are required if it is a large affair. Cards are usually left, as a token that one has been present, but in this case a card is manifestly not a visit, since it would be absurd for a woman to invite fifty, a hundred, or even five hundred people, who would expect her to call on them afterwards. Cards are sent by those who do not attend, on the day. A reception given for forty or fifty people is less formal, perhaps, but requires flowers—in less profusion—and refreshments. The awning may be dispensed with if the day is fine, but seldom is. The door must be promptly opened, and the maid remains at her post during the affair if there are many guests, to open it for those who leave as well as those who arrive.
"There is an emanation from the heart in genuine hospitality which cannotbe described, but is immediately felt, and puts the stranger at once athis ease."—Washington Irving.
Were we to look up the meaning of the word hospitality in the dictionary, we would find it defined as the act of receiving and entertaining guests kindly, generously, and gratuitously, without expectation of reward.
According to such a definition, much that passes for hospitality in the social realm does not deserve the name. Society is a give-and-take arrangement, somewhat resembling the gift exchange we practise at Christmas. If you do not give you do not get; if you do not entertain you are not invited, unless it is understood that circumstances prevent your doing so. Then one is asked for what one can contribute in the way of good company, promotion of gayety, and the like. One "pays her way" by being agreeable, well gowned, popular. Thus, in a way, much social hospitality is merely social bargaining. The woman who feels indebted to her circle—or circles, for these impinge upon each other—gives a large reception or "at home." She can seldom do more than welcome the coming and speed the parting guest. Her greeting is "So delighted to see you here;" her farewell, "Good-bye; so glad you were able to come." Her guests have greeted each other in much the same casual fashion, have had some refreshments warranted to destroy their appetite for dinner; have shown a handsome gown and hat—and perhaps had the former injured in the crush. One is reminded of Bunthorne's "Hollow! Hollow! Hollow!!"
Real Hospitality.—Quite different is this from what we offer when we invite our friends to visit us. Here is genuine hospitality—the receiving and entertaining gratuitously those whose companionship we enjoy. One of the chief joys of having one's own home is the pleasure of being able to welcome one's friends and afford them the privilege of enjoying it also. An invitation of this kind means we are willing to incommode ourselves, incur expense, and give a measure of our time to the entertainment of those of our friends whose society we wish to enjoy familiarly. Thus it seems that an invitation to visit a friend in her home is a compliment of no mean order, although Nicole says: "'Visits are for the most part neither more nor less than inventions for discharging upon our neighbors somewhat of our own unendurable weight."
Short Visits.—Visits are of much shorter duration than in those "old times" people talk about so enthusiastically—and would find so tiresome were they to return again. Then visitors stayed week after week; were urged to remain longer when they proposed departure. The story goes of a Virginia planter who invited an old war-time friend to visit him. At the end of a month the major proposed departure. His host objected so strenuously that he agreed to stay another month. And so it went on, the guest regularly proposing to leave, the host hospitably insisting on his remaining, until in the end the old veteran died in and was buried from his friend's house. This, however, is an example not to be emulated in these less hospitable days.
There is a saying, "Short visits make long friends," that is worth consideration by those who visit. Probably the truth of the saying has been so often attested that it has given rise to the custom of specifying the date of arrival and departure of a guest when giving the invitation. It has become to be understood that the vague, indefinite invitation "Do come and see us sometime," means nothing. No one would think for a moment of taking it in good faith. If the giver wishes to entertain her friend she will ask if it will be convenient for her to visit her at a certain specified date. Nothing less counts. An understanding of this might save the unexperienced from the awkwardness of making an unwelcome visit.
The Unexpected Visit.—Nothing is worse form than "the surprise visit." Generally you do surprise your hostess and very often most disagreeably. A housekeeper does not enjoy an intrusion—for such it is—of that kind any more than you would be pleased to have a chance caller rush unannounced into your private rooms. Even among relatives and the most intimate friends, there is nothing to justify the unexpected arrival. Nothing so strikes terror to a woman's soul as the thud of trunks on the piazza and the crunch of wheels on the gravel, meaning someone has "come to stay."
Such an arrival is a piece of presumption on the part of the visitor. She assumes she will be welcome at any time she chooses to present herself. This may be true; but at the same time there is an obligation of courtesy which requires her to consult her friend's convenience. Instead, she consults her own and utterly ignores that of her hostess, who is thus forced into entertaining her.
The Inopportune Arrival.—Many awkward and sometimes amusing anecdotes are told in connection with the inopportune visit. Thus not long ago the newspapers chronicled the plight of a woman who undertook to surprise an acquaintance from whom she had not heard for several years. She was driven to their house and dismissed the carriage. A strange face met her at the door, and she learned that her friend had removed to another city nearly a twelvemonth before. "Served her right" will be everybody's verdict.
Suppose one arrives unexpectedly and finds the friend's house full of other and invited company. Then, if ever, she ought to feel herself "a rank outsider." If she is tactless enough not to give notice of her intended arrival, she probably has not the good sense to depart as quickly as possible. The man of the house may have to sleep on the parlor sofa, or the children on the floor, and ninety-nine times out of a hundred the whole family will wish her in Halifax.
Or she may arrive to find some member of the family ill, or house-cleaning or repairing in progress, or the house in the hands of the decorators. Indeed, so many unforeseen accidents may occur to make her visit an unpleasant memory, both to herself and her hostess, that only the most selfish and inconsiderate of women will so violate the social conventions as to make "surprise visits."
Visits That Save Expense.—Something equally reprehensible is the visit we pay to a friend in town where we have business or desire a pleasure trip, and do not propose to have it cost us much of anything. We force hospitality on our acquaintances in order to save hotel bills. They know it, and they feel about it just exactly as we would in their places—that is, that it is an imposition on good nature and a mean and selfish thing to do.
"We gave up our house and went to boarding simply because my health and my husband's salary were inadequate to the demands made upon them by our out-of-town relatives and acquaintances, who used us as a restaurant and hotel. There was seldom a week when we did not give ten or twelve meals and two or three nights lodging to people better able to pay for them than we were to furnish them. So we gave up housekeeping." This is an actual experience.
The "house-party," as the week-end visit is now often styled, is a comparatively recent addition to social entertainments. It is a fashion imported from England, and a very good one. It is the "from Saturday to Monday" visit, and so universally recognized that during the summer extra trolley cars and railroad trains are in use to convey resorters and their guests to summer homes in the country.
Invitations to a house-party are given several weeks in advance, and great care should be taken to invite those who are congenial and will "mix well," since where a few are thrown together congeniality is absolutely essential to success. The invitations are informal; the length of the visit definitely fixed; even the train by which the visitor is expected to arrive and leave is mentioned, that there may be no misunderstanding.
The Invitation.—One may write to her friend: "Won't you give us the pleasure of entertaining you from Friday afternoon to Monday? The 3:45 train will bring you here in time for tea. There is to be a musical in the evening; an automobile ride is planned for Saturday afternoon, to show you the beauties of our vicinity, and there is to be the usual Saturday evening dance at the hotel. A train leaves here at 10:30 Monday morning, which will take you back to the city in ample time for lunch. Hoping to have the happiness of seeing you on Friday, I am," etc., etc.
This not only suggests to your friend at what time she is expected to arrive and depart, but gives her an idea of what she should bring with her in the way of clothes. One should always take her prettiest gowns that will be suitable to the entertainments proposed for her pleasure—for a hostess naturally wishes to have her guests make a good appearance. From four to six is the number generally asked to a small house-party, since the usual summer cottage has few guest rooms. The guests are, if possible, evenly divided as to sex, and a hostess may, with perfect propriety, arrange that the men of the party shall be lodged at a hotel, coming over to breakfast with their entertainer.
Amusements.—Some amusements are always provided for the visitors at a house-party. Often a dinner-party is planned for Sunday, in which several other guests are included. Men who cannot leave business for even a week-end often come out Sunday for a dinner and a breath of country air. Now that automobiles are as plenty as black-berries the railroad train can be ignored. Young people living in the country should take advantage of this method of entertaining their city friends, who will find the change delightful in summer, and will gladly reciprocate by inviting them to the city during the social season. Remember that a hearty hospitality, a sincere joy in seeing your friends, and the fresh milk, eggs and fruits you can offer will do much toward counterbalancing your lack of "city conveniences."
The Hostess's Arrangements.—The hostess should arrange to have the guests met at the station. She will naturally try to have them arrive by the same train, is possible; but she must see that their baggage arrives at the house nearly as soon as they do, that they may at once remove the soil of travel and dress for the evening meal. She may or she may not meet them at the station, according to her own convenience, but she must be ready to receive them when they arrive at the home. If the journey has been long, a cup of tea may be offered; otherwise they are at once shown to their rooms. The hostess does this for her women guests, the host or a servant for the men.
If a visitor is so unfortunate as to miss her train she should immediately telegraph or telephone her hostess, explaining the accident, and saying she will arrange to have herself conveyed from the station to the house on her arrival by a later train. Of course, the hostess will not permit this, but will send some vehicle to meet the next train.
The matter of guest rooms and their conveniences, proper furnishings, etc., will be taken up in a later section.
What Is Expected of Guests.—One does not invite guests to make them uncomfortable, therefore it is best not to expect them to rise for an early breakfast. If they are expected to present themselves, as late an hour as possible should be named. But they may be served with coffee, rolls, fruit and any other easily prepared breakfast dish whenever they please to arise, being given to understand that a substantial breakfast is the price of the extra "forty winks." Guests at a house-party are expected to entertain themselves, among themselves, to a considerable extent. They may walk, or row, or play croquet or tennis, or read or gossip or play cards, while the hostess attends to her domestic duties. If the party is large, or if but one or no servants are kept, the women should quietly attend to their own rooms, making up the bed and picking up their own belongings. Whether they may do this or not depends upon circumstances of which they must judge.
The most enjoyable house-parties are given in these roomy old houses with broad verandas, surrounded with lawn and garden. But this need not deter those having less delightful surroundings from offering their best to their friends. It is not so much the elegance of what we offer as the manner in which it is offered that makes our friends remember their visit with pleasure.
Dress at Week-End Visits.—Women wear a simple tailored suit while traveling, with white waist or silk skirt to match. If the weather is warm, white duck, pique or linen skirts with white shirts are worn mornings; afternoons, foulard, or some of the fine and dainty fabrics suited to the season. For evening, nothing is prettier than white for the young—and, indeed, "everybody wears white." By change of accessories, the same white gown may be made to do for the two evenings. If an automobile trip is part of the entertainment, one should take an ulster or long loose coat and veil.
The woman's greatest trouble is to carry a second hat—something she may need under some circumstances, though the fashion of going bareheaded helps considerably. But if the entertainment includes a garden party, a tea or reception, she must have a hat. The trunk is uncalled for, and the suitcase is disobliging. What shall she do?
Her best plan will be to have a becoming shape covered with black tulle or malines, and a made bow attached to it to travel in. On arrival, she will detach the bow and pin on a couple of plumes, an aigrette, or flowers, converting it into a dress hat.
Men's Wear.—The man wears the ordinary business suit for travelling, sack or cutaway. He wears in the country in the morning a suit of flannel, tweed or cheviot, a straw hat and tan shoes. His shirt may be of striped madras or linen, with a white collar. The cutaway coat is correct for ordinary afternoon wear, with a white waistcoat, white shirt and four-in-hand tie. This takes the place in summer of the frock coat, which is the formal day wear. He will seldom, if ever, have occasion for a dress suit at a week-end visit in summer. Of course, the size of the party and the gayeties in which one will participate have a bearing on the dress question, but the tendency is for men's dress to be more comfortable and less formal in summer, especially in the country.
The woman who is entertaining guests must remember two things: that she must not neglect them, and that she must not tire them out with too much attention. There is a "happy mean" to be attained, which is the climax of pleasure and comfort to both.
One woman makes her visitor feel that "the domestic veal" has been slaughtered in her behalf. The usual manner of living and habits of life have been put aside that she may be "entertained." Elaborate meals are planned; there is a straining after hospitality which defeats its own purpose and makes the visitor uncomfortable, because the hostess has so manifestly incommoded herself. The fussy hostess puts too much endeavor into her entertainment.
On the other hand, there is the hostess who announces her intention of regarding her visitor as "one of the family," "making no fuss" on account of her being in the house. This sounds much better than it works out in actual practice. Unless we are prepared to modify our routine in accordance with our friend's pleasure and convenience, at least to some extent, we should not invite her. We do not ask people to our houses to make them more uncomfortable than they would be at home. A visit is in the nature of a holiday, or vacation, to the visitor; we are to see to it that she is deferred to and efforts made to please her.
The Visitor's Comfort.—It is hospitable to consult her tastes in the matter of food. It is uncomfortable for both hostess and guest if the principal dish at dinner is something the latter dislikes. Nor should we ask her to conform to the family breakfast hour if we know she is unaccustomed to early hours, or is very much fatigued. In that case it is best to say that the early breakfast is a family necessity and that she will not be expected to appear at it, but may have her coffee and toast in her own room or down stairs at the hour at which she wishes to rise. This, though it may necessitate the preparation of a tray to be sent up, is really a convenience to the hostess, who is then left free to attend to her domestic duties. As some one has said, "It is not hospitality to ask a guest to your rooftree and expect her to find sufficient delight in being there and doing as you do." Very often she would be far more comfortable at home, physically at least. Remember your object in inviting people is to make them happy. Unless you are willing to make some sacrifices to do this, do not invite them.
Preparing for Company.—An expected guest should always be met at the station by some member of the family. The guest room should be in readiness, closet and bureau drawers vacated for her use. The bed should be freshly made up, the bedding having been properly aired. It would seem that no one would offer a visitor a bed that has not been changed and aired after having been slept in, yet guests, exchanging experiences, acknowledge it has been done—let us hope through inadvertence, though it is really inexcusable.
There should be plenty of fresh towels and water; a fresh cake of soap, a candlestick and matches, and a waste paper basket. On the dressing-bureau there should be a spotless spread, a pincushion well stocked with pins, hand mirror, comb and brush. The guest will bring her own, but may need to use these before her luggage arrives. The brush and comb should have been washed after a previous using.
A lounge, preferably placed at the foot of the bed if there is room; a light quilt or blanket for use upon it; an easy chair, and a clock in good working order are desirable furnishings. Writing materials should be provided. Some careful and painstaking hostesses include a small writing desk, well stocked with paper, pens and ink, postage stamps, even picture postal cards already stamped and ready to be addressed. A new magazine and a few books, and a little basket containing thimble, needles, scissors and several spools of cotton complete the conveniences arranged for the guest. A potted plant, or a few flowers in a vase, give a personal touch that bespeaks the hostess's solicitude for the pleasure of her friend.
There is no more delicious flattery than that of having one's personal tastes remembered and recognized.
The Visitor's Entertainment.—The entertainment of a guest is, of course, dependent on the hostess's means, mode of life, social standing, the season of the year, and whether one lives in town or in the country.
She will ask some of her friends to call on her guest; she will give a little entertainment for her, at cards, or a tea, or a reception, according to circumstances. No doubt her friends will include her visitor in their invitations during her stay. She will take her friend to see the sights of her home city if she is a stranger; she may give a theatre party, or at least take her friend several times. She will pay her guest's carfare, unless the other anticipates her, and pay for the theatre tickets. It will be perfectly correct for the guest to "stand treat" by inviting her host and hostess to accompany her to concert or play, paying for the seats herself.
The Hostess's Invitations.—It often happens that a hostess has invitations not extended to her visitor. She may have accepted; before her guest's arrival, an invitation to dinner, card party or luncheon. In neither of these may she ask to have her guests included. They are formal functions for which arrangements are made long in advance. She may say to an intimate friend who is giving a musical or an "At home" or any informal affair, that she has a visitor staying with her, and the friend will no doubt extend an invitation to the latter. It is proper for host and hostess to accept invitations in which a guest is not included if they make some provision for her pleasure during their absence.
She may be asked to invite some friend to dine with her, or someone provided to take her to the theatre. Nor has she a right to feel affronted at being left at home.
One thing must be carefully avoided, the hostess must not let her guest feel, for one moment, that she is the cause of inconvenience or trouble. Even if she is, the fact must be sedulously concealed. Bear with the annoyance until the visit ceases; then do not invite her again. It is the hostess's privilege to invite; having invited she must not allow her equanimity to be disturbed.
If it is the duty of the hostess to be attentive to the comfort of her guest, there is quite as much obligation resting on the guest to show a disposition to be pleased and to make herself agreeable. Some women—young girls more particularly—seem to think too much cannot be done for their entertainment. They make themselves burdensome by their wish to have "something doing" all the time. The visitor who conveys the impression that she is neglected unless some festivity is in the immediate future easily becomes tiresome.
The guest should accommodate herself to the ways of the family. Especially should she be punctual at meals and ready on time when going out with her friends. Her host may acquire a dislike to her if she keeps him waiting. She should always be neatly dressed, never appearing at the breakfast table in kimona or dressing-jacket if men will be present. She should respect the privileges of the host, not occupying his easy chair, appropriating the newspaper or the best position round the lamp. She should give as little trouble as possible and be especially careful about scattering her belongings about the house. This particularly applies to young girls, who are apt to be careless in this respect. It annoys a hostess to find Missy's rubbers kicked off in the hall, her hat on the piano, and a half eaten box of candy on the parlor sofa.
About Being Thoughtful.—She should be careful to avoid injury to any of her hostess' pretty things or her furnishings. The story is told of a girl who, conducted to her hostess's beautiful guest room, furnished with the utmost daintiness in white, threw her umbrella and dusty coat on the spotless counterpane, exclaiming: "What a lovely room!" It was not lovely when she left it. The wall was defaced by marks made by scratching matches; the bureau scarf was blackened by the curling-iron; there were ink spots on the hemstitched sheets where she had written letters in bed, and something that would not come out was spilled on the table cover. It does not show that you are accustomed to nice things to be so negligent and careless; it shows you are not accustomed to them and do not know how to treat them; and it makes you a visitor the hostess is glad to get rid of, and never invites again.
The guest, young or old, should take herself out of the way part of the time; she shouldn't be always in evidence. Let her go to her own room and write letters, read, or take her work out of doors; in other words, show an ability to entertain herself which releases her hostess from that responsibility for the time being. This is much better than having one's friend in one's constant presence.
Outside Acquaintance.—If one is staying with a friend and has other acquaintances in the same place she will naturally expect them to call on her. If her callers are strangers to her hostess, they should ask for her. The hostess may see them or ask to be excused with equal propriety. The guest is at liberty to accept outside invitations which do not include her hostess, but should always consult her in reference to them. She has no right to invite any of her friends to a meal without first mentioning her wish to her hostess and securing a cordial acquiescence. She must not make a convenience of her friend's house, and if a girl or young woman, she must not receive there any man or woman of whom her parents disapprove. This is disloyal to them, and an imposition upon her hostess.
Other Points to Observe.—If a visitor can play, sing, recite, tell stories, or in any way contribute to the pleasure of her friends or other guests, she should comply cheerfully with requests that she do so. On the other hand, she should not monopolize the piano. She should enter readily into any plans proposed for her entertainment; even though they may not be especially agreeable, she should subscribe to the kindly intent.
The question as to how much assistance the visitor should volunteer in case her hostess keeps but one servant, or does her own work, is dependent upon circumstances. She certainly shouldn't follow her hostess all over the house with offers of help: "Can't I do this?" "Shan't I do that?" Let her quickly and unostentatiously render such small services as are helpful without being obtrusive. She may care for her own room; she may fill the vases with flowers; she may tell stories to the children or take them for a walk, but she must carefully respect the hostess's privacy and not intrude in the rear regions where the domestic rites are performed, without her hostess's permission. And whatever aid she renders she should give according to her hostess's method, not her own.
A visitor should carefully avoid any comment on the cook's failures, should such occur; she must not criticise the children's manners: nor reprove them; nor should she criticise the chance caller or visitor, who is a friend of her hostess, but not of her acquaintance. Above all she must avoid comparisons. If she has been visiting more wealthy people it is not good form to wax eloquent over the elegance of their establishment or their more expensive mode of entertaining.