isasters--what is a sudden
disaster? There's Marion Mulciber, who _would_ think she could play
bridge, just as she would think she could ride down a hill on a bicycle;
on that occasion she went to a hospital, now she's gone into a
Sisterhood--lost all she had, you know, and gave the rest to Heaven.
Still, you can't call it a sudden calamity; _that_ occurred when poor
dear Marion was born. The doctors said at the time that she couldn't
live more than a fortnight, and she's been trying ever since to see if
she could. Women are so opinionated.

And then there's the Education Question--not that I can see that there's
anything to worry about in that direction. To my mind, education is an
absurdly over-rated affair. At least, one never took it very seriously
at school, where everything was done to bring it prominently under one's
notice. Anything that is worth knowing one practically teaches oneself,
and the rest obtrudes itself sooner or later. The reason one's elders
know so comparatively little is because they have to unlearn so much that
they acquired by way of education before we were born. Of course I'm a
believer in Nature-study; as I said to Lady Beauwhistle, if you want a
lesson in elaborate artificiality, just watch the studied unconcern of a
Persian cat entering a crowded salon, and then go and practise it for a
fortnight. The Beauwhistles weren't born in the Purple, you know, but
they're getting there on the instalment system--so much down, and the
rest when you feel like it. They have kind hearts, and they never forget
birthdays. I forget what he was, something in the City, where the
patriotism comes from; and she--oh, well, her frocks are built in Paris,
but she wears them with a strong English accent. So public-spirited of
her. I think she must have been very strictly brought up, she's so
desperately anxious to do the wrong thing correctly. Not that it really
matters nowadays, as I told her: I know some perfectly virtuous people
who are received everywhere.

REGINALD ON HOUSE-PARTIES

The drawback is, one never really _knows_ one's hosts and hostesses. One
gets to know their fox-terriers and their chrysanthemums, and whether the
story about the go-cart can be turned loose in the drawing-room, or must
be told privately to each member of the party, for fear of shocking
public opinion; but one's host and hostess are a sort of human hinterland
that one never has the time to explore.

Ther