It may be an inclination of the head only, differing from a "nod" in the dignity of movement.

The inclination may extend to the shoulders, causing a slightly perceptible forward leaning. This inclination may continue to the waist line.

The extreme inclination bends the entire trunk from the hips. The legs are straight and the feet near together, in the attitude of "position" in free gymnastics.

In every bow, of whatever gradation, the movement should be slow, the eye steady, the face serene, and the whole demeanor expressive of polite interest in the object. An averted eye is disrespectful, and suggests insincerity or treachery. Not that it always means either; the "drooping eyelash" is affected by many women as gracefully expressive of feminine modesty. It may be coquettish, but there is nothing particularly womanly in never looking a man in the eye. Search the face that confronts you, and learn what manner of man this is whom you are receiving into your company and fellowship. If he quails under the inquisition, so much the worse for him. If he is worth looking at, it is a pity to miss the sight. Moreover, we more than half suspect that a woman's face is more attractive if her eyes occasionally "look up clear," instead of allowing the downcast lids to hide all of their vivacity and expression.

The gayety or the gravity of the countenance may serve to measure the cordiality or the reserve which respectively distinguish two "bows"—exactly alike as to movement, and equally courteous, the one inviting confidence, the other repelling familiarity. The time, the place, and the occasion, and the mutual relations of people, decide the essential character of the appropriate bow. It must always be the exponent of the nature and disposition of the individual, and of his relation to the person whom he greets. No one has precisely the same manner for any two people of his acquaintance—that is, if he has any vital manner at all. We are to others largely what they inspire us to be, and only lifeless indifference reduces "manner" to one same automatic manifestation. The life of a social greeting is in its exclusive spirit, and though the variations of outward manner are difficult to trace, it is a graceful and flattering thing to make this specialty of manner felt in every greeting extended. Perhaps, after all, it is the eye that controls this, as the spirit within controls the eye.

In general, the manner of a greeting should be optimistic, free from ungracious suspicion, and indicating a cheerful willingness to take people at their best; and even when most sternly forbidding intrusiveness, it should appear that the repulse is for good cause, and is not merely the expression of a capricious and unfounded arrogance. The latter quality, quite as often as not, characterizes the manner of snobs toward people who are infinitely their superiors in all that indicates character and breeding.

The "curtsey"—or "courtesy"—is a feature of the minuet, and revived with the old-fashioned dance. It is a pretty bit of old-time grace, and is appropriate in responding to formal introductions and greetings in the drawing-room, especially when paying respect to elderly people. It is most effective when executed in a costume of voluminous draperies. It is a woman's ceremonial; no man ever "curtseys." The regulation "bow" is the only "deference" that gracefully combines with a dress suit.

The courtesy is a strictly formal obeisance, and the courtly reverence which it embodies is something more abstract than concrete, not necessarily inspired by the person to whom its deference is shown. Like all greetings exchanged in the midst of crowds or in public places, it is somewhat impersonal in manner. Personal recognitions and distinctions are reserved for more private occasions. One's greetings to fellow-guests at a reception are uniformly affable, irrespective of personal preferences. Though our dearest friend and our direst foe both be present, we must not pointedly discriminate between them; we are not at liberty to use the parlors of our host for either a lover's tryst or a duelling-ground.

A guest's first duty on entering a parlor or drawing-room is to pay his or her respects to the hostess and the ladies who are receiving with her. Gentlemen should also make it a point to find the host as soon as possible, and extend to him a similar courtesy. The host, in turn, when not receiving formally with the hostess, roams at large, giving a hospitable greeting to each lady among his guests.

In America, when a lady and gentleman meet, after being duly introduced, it is the lady's privilege to bow first. This rule protects her from the intrusion of an unwelcome acquaintance. But when the acquaintance is established and mutually agreeable, the rule is immaterial.