explained happily, "it is n't that--I 'm not tired. It is such
a happy reason!" I felt Eve gasp. Mr. Gladstone opened his kind eyes
very wide, and his heavy chin settled down in his collar. It was the
last bad break I made. But it was a blessing to me, for it robbed all
social form of terror. For the first time, I realized that custom is
merely a matter of geography. One takes off one's shoes to enter the
presence of the ruler of Persia. One wears a black tie until eleven
o'clock in Vienna--or does n't. One uses fish knives in England until
he dines with royalty--then one must manage with a fork and a piece of
bread. One dresses for dinner always, and waits for the hostess to say
it is time, and speaks only to one's neighbor at table. In France one
guest speaks to any or all of the others; all one's friends extend
congratulations if a baby is coming; one shares all his joys with
friends. But in England nobody must know, and everybody must be
surprised. No one ever speaks of himself in England. They are
sensitive about everything personal. But there is an underground and
very perfect system by which everything about everybody is known and
noised about and discussed with everybody except the person in question.
It is a mysterious and elaborate hypocrisy.

With the aid of Eve, I made a thorough study of the geography of social
customs. I learned the ways of Europe, of the Orient, and of South
America. It is easier to understand races if one understands the
psychology of their customs. I realized that social amenities are too
often neglected in America, and our manners sometimes truthfully called
crude. But I told myself with pride that our truly cultivated people
will not tolerate a social form that is not based on human, kindly
instincts. It was not until the World War flooded Europe with American
boys and girls that I realized the glory of our social standards and the
great need to have our own people understand those standards.

IV.

Fear is the destroyer of peace. I knew no peace until I learned not to
be afraid of conventions. The three most wretched years in my life
might easily have been avoided by a little training at home or at
school.

I realize now the unhappiness of those first years of my married life.
I was awkward and ill at ease in a world that valued social poise above
knowledge. From my childhood I had loved honest, sincere people. After
my marriage I met distinguished