"Because it's not considered good form to use carriages too much," I replied. "It might rouse the envy of those who can't afford carriages."
"Then it isn't because you don't want to, but because you don't dare to?"
"Yes," said I. "But things are changing rapidly. The rich people who live here but care nothing for politics are gradually introducing class distinctions."
"You mean, poor people who like to fawn upon and hate the rich are introducing class distinctions," he corrected.
He is thirty-two years old; he treats a woman as if she were a man, and he treats a man as if he himself were one. It isn't possible not to like that sort of human being.
Invitations are beginning to come in floods—invitations for the big, formal things for which people are asked weeks in advance. And we are getting a splendid percentage of acceptances for our big affairs, thanks to my taking the trouble to find out the freest dates in the season. If all goes well, before another month, as soon as it gets round that we are going to give something big in a short time, lots of pretty good people will be holding off from accepting other things in the hope that they're on our list.
Certainly, there's a good deal in going about anything in a systematic way—even a social launching.