Part 9

“Mr. L. accepts with pleasure Mrs. X.’s kind invitation to dinner on Thursday, the 16th of February.”

These are the preliminaries; the lady’s address being on the sheet of paper or card on which her invitation has been written.

Three weeks’ notice is usual, but sometimes, in the season, when many parties are going on, invitations are sent out four, five, or six weeks beforehand, in order to secure the guests. In the case of “lions” even longer invitations have been given; but as one of the first principles of good breeding is never to “corner” anybody, it is scarcely fair to invite those who are in much request without giving them the option of refusal.

An invitation of seven or eight weeks’ length scarcely allows one to plead a pre-engagement, and often defeats the eager hostess’s own end by inducing the “lion” to accept without any intention of being present, writing later on to “renage,” to use a good old whist term.

But as our young man is scarcely yet a “lion,” and probably not over-burdened with engagements for dinner or any other social function, we may imagine him accepting with a free mind.

Should anything intervene to prevent him carrying out his engagement, he is in duty bound to let his hostess know as early as possible that he cannot be present at her dinner-party. This is more especially and particularly necessary with dinners, though it holds good with regard to all invitations.

But with dinner there is a peculiar obligation laid upon the guests. The choice and arrangement of them involves care on the part of the dinner-giver, more so than in the case of any other meal. In fact, dinner stands alone as an institution sacred to the highest rites of hospitality. To be invited is an honour to the young man who is just beginning his social life. To absent himself would be a gross rudeness, unless he could plead circumstances of a pressing nature. It is considered a great infraction of good manners to wire on the very day of the party that one cannot dine as arranged, unless something has occurred to justify such conduct.

The hostess can with difficulty find a substitute at short notice, and the whole plan of her table is destroyed by the absence of one person. There are few people who would not feel offended at being invited to fill a gap of the kind, and this is what makes it so extremely discourteous to disappoint at the last moment, as it were.

The unfortunate hostess thinks, “Is there any one good-natured enough to come and fill the vacant place?” Sometimes this is the raison d’être of a young man’s first invitation. Let him accept it by all means, even though he is perfectly aware that he was not his entertainer’s first choice.

Many a young man feels nervous about his first dinner-party. There are a few puzzling things that trouble him in prospect. He wonders if he should wear gloves, as ladies do, taking them off at the dinner-table. Let me set his mind at rest on this small point, at once.

He need not wear gloves. In fact, he must not. Another little matter to be remembered is that a quarter of an hour’s grace is always understood in dinner invitations. Should the hour indicated be 8 o’clock, then care must be taken to time the arrival at five or ten minutes past the hour.

But it is better to be too early than too late. A want of punctuality at this meal is unpardonable. It is the very height of rudeness, annoying to the host and hostess, displeasing to the guests, and regarded as outrageous by the cook.

When our young man is shown into the drawing-room, he at once goes up to his hostess, no matter whether there is any one he knows nearer to the door than the lady of the house. This is always a fixed rule, whether it be on the occasion of a call or visit, or on having been invited to a party of any kind. When he has been greeted by his hostess he looks round the room to see if there is anyone present whom he knows.

If so, he goes up to the ladies first, if there are any of his acquaintance present, and afterwards greets the gentlemen. His host will probably have shaken hands with him immediately after his wife has done so.

He will then be told what lady he is to take down to dinner, and be introduced to her, if he does not already know her. He must bow, not shake hands, and make small talk for her during the interval between his introduction and the announcement of dinner.

Here is his first real difficulty. To converse with a perfect stranger is always one of the initial social accomplishments to be learned, and it is not at all an easy thing at first. It needs practice.

Ninety men out of every hundred offer a remark upon the weather; but unless there has been something very extraordinary going on in the meteorological line, it is better to avoid this subject if possible. A girl at Ascot said to me one lovely day, “That’s the eighth man who has informed me that it’s a beautiful day.” Up came a ninth with the very same observation, and both she and I felt inclined to titter like very schoolgirls. It is far better to start with something more original.

It is as well to keep the pronoun “I” in the background just at first. If your partner is as nice as she might be, she will soon give you abundant opportunity for talking about yourself.

By the way, a man must not at his very first dinner-party expect to be given a pretty girl to take down. He may possibly be so fortunate, but those prizes are usually reserved for men of more experience in social life. The young man has probably been invited to make up the necessary number of men, and an unmarried lady of uncertain age or an elderly woman without much claim to consideration will probably fall to his share.

However, there is this consolation, she will be excellent for practising upon. He would not mind making small mistakes so much as if his partner were a young and charming girl.

Nor is the art of making small talk so difficult as it would be with a pair of bright and youthful eyes beaming into your own, and confusing you into forgetfulness of all but their own delightful language.

But what to talk about is the puzzle of the moment.

I have known a good beginning made with some such, remark as, “Do you know everybody here?” This leads perhaps to the acquisition of some information as to the other guests.

At table there will be more to suggest topics. The floral decorations often lead up to conversation. The colours of the flowers remind one of pictures, and the lady on one’s right may be asked if she has been to any exhibitions that may be open. If so, what pictures she liked best. Does she paint? Has she read the novel of the hour? What she thinks of it? Does she bike? At this rate our novice gets on swimmingly, and may safely be left to himself.

I must not omit some small details dealing with the guest on his arrival, and on his way afterwards from the drawing-to the dining-room.

The servant who admits him takes his overcoat and hat, either in the hall or in a room set apart for the purpose.

Should he be accompanied by a lady he follows her upstairs, and she enters the room slightly in advance of him, probably about a yard or so. The young man must not have the appearance of hanging back, however. He walks steadily and rather briskly up the room.

When the move to the dining-room is made, the gentlemen offer to the ladies the arm which will place them on the wall side of the staircase, thus avoiding the contact of their dresses with the balusters. But should the dining-room be, as it very frequently is, on the same floor as the drawing-room, then the right arm is offered.