chains of diamonds of the "dowagers," the stiff white
shirt-fronts and boutonnieres and perfectly fitting coats of the older
gentlemen, as well as the best clothes of all the younger people, were all
put on for you.

You shake hands and smile sweetly to a number of older ladies and shake
hands with an equal number of gentlemen, all very politely and properly.
Then suddenly, half way up the stairs you see Betty and Anne and Fred and
Ollie. Of course your attention is drawn to them. You are vaguely
conscious that the butler is shouting some stupid name you never heard
of--that you don't care in the least about. Your mother's voice is saying
"Mrs. zzzzzz----,"

Impatiently you give your hand to someone--you haven't the slightest idea
who it is. So far as your interest is concerned, you might as well be
brushing away annoying flies. Your smiles are directed to Betty and Anne.
As they reach the top of the stairs you dart forward and enter into an
excited conversation, deliberately overlooking a lady and gentleman who,
without trying further to attract your attention, pass on. Later in the
winter you will perhaps wonder why you alone among your friends are never
asked to Great Estates. The lady and gentleman of whom you are so rudely
unaware, happen to be Mr. and Mrs. Worldly, and you have entirely
forgotten that you are a hostess, and furthermore that you have the whole
evening, beginning at supper, when you can talk to these friends of yours!
You can dance with Fred and Ollie and Jimmy all the rest of the evening;
you can spend most of your time with them for the rest of your life if you
and they choose. But when you are out in public, above all at a party
which is for _you_, your duty in commonest civility is to overcome your
impulses, and behave as a grown-up person--and a well-bred grown-up person
at that!

It takes scarcely more than ten seconds to listen to the name that is said
to you, to look directly and attentively at the one to whom the name
belongs, to put out your hand firmly as you would take hold of something
you like, (not something that you feel an aversion to), and with a smile
say "How do you do." At your ball your mother says "Mrs. Worldly, my
daughter." You look directly at Mrs. Worldly, put out your hand, say "How
do you do, Mrs. Worldly." And she passes on. It takes no longer to be
cordial and attentive than to be distrait and casual and rude, yet the
impression made in a few seconds of actual time