be perfect
is merely the every-day duty of the butler. She knows without looking that
one of the chauffeurs is on the sidewalk; that footmen are in the hall;
that her own maid is in the ladies' dressing-room, and the valet in that
of the gentlemen; and that her butler is just outside the door near which
she is standing.

So with nothing on her mind (except a jewelled ornament and perfectly
"done" hair) she receives her guests with the tranquillity attained only
by those whose household--whether great or small--can be counted on to run
like a perfectly coordinated machine.

=HOW A DINNER CAN BE BUNGLED=

This is the contrasting picture to the dinner at the Worldly's--a picture
to show you particularly who are a bride how awful an experiment in dinner
giving can be.

Let us suppose that you have a quite charming house, and that your wedding
presents included everything necessary to set a well-appointed table. You
have not very experienced servants, but they would all be good ones with a
little more training.

You have been at home for so few meals you don't quite know how
experienced they are. Your cook at least makes good coffee and eggs and
toast for breakfast, and the few other meals she has cooked seemed to be
all right, and she is such a nice clean person!

So when your house is "in order" and the last pictures and curtains are
hung, the impulse suddenly comes to you to give a dinner! Your husband
thinks it is a splendid idea. It merely remains to decide whom you will
ask. You hesitate between a few of your own intimates, or older people,
and decide it would be such fun to ask a few of the hostesses whose houses
you have almost lived at ever since you "came out." You decide to ask Mrs.
Toplofty, Mr. Clubwin Doe, the Worldlys, the Gildings, and the Kindharts
and the Wellborns. With yourselves that makes twelve. You can't have more
than twelve because you have only a dozen of everything; in fact you
decide that twelve will be pretty crowded, but that it will be safe to ask
that number because a few are sure to "regret." So you write notes (since
it is to be a formal dinner), and--they all accept! You are a little
worried about the size of the dining-room, but you are overcome by the
feeling of your popularity. Now the thing to do is to prepare for a
dinner. The fact that Nora probably can't make fancy dishes does not
bother you a bit. In your mind's eye you see delicious plain food passed;
you must get Sigrid