Yet you must learn how the people live whom you would meet upon common ground as old to them as it is new to you. You blush in confessing that you are bewildered as to the order in which the various forks are to be used that lie beside your plate at the few state dinners you attend. Entrées are many, and some appallingly unfamiliar. You wonder mutely what these people would think of you if they knew that you were never “taken in” to dinner by a man until to-night, and how narrowly you watch the hostess, or the woman across the way before you dare advance upon the course set before you. Dreading awkward stiffness that would betray preoccupation, you attract attention by a show of gaiety unlike your usual behavior and unsuited to time and place. Should you make a mistake—such as using a spoon instead of the ice-cream fork—you are abashed to misery. Don’t apologize, however gross the solecism! In eighteen times out of twenty, nobody has noticed the misadventure. In twenty cases out of a score, if it were observed you are the one person who would care a picayune about it, or ever think of it again.
Another cardinal principle is to learn to consider yourself as a minute fractional part of society. When your name is bawled out by usher or footman at a large party, it sounds like the trump of doom in your unaccustomed ears. To your excited imagination all eyes are riveted upon you. In point of fact, you are of no more consequence to the eyes, ears and minds of your fellow guests than the carpet that seems to rise to meet your uncertain feet. Stubborn conviction of your insignificance is the first step that counts in the acquisition of well-mannered composure among your fellows.
MAKING ACQUAINTANCES
In forming new acquaintances, be courteous in the reception of advances, and slow in making them until you have reason to think that you are liked for yourself, and not because your husband represents six, or it may be seven numerals. There are sure to be dozens of critics who will accuse you of parading these figures, as vessels fly bunting in entering a strange harbor. Stamp on your mind that adventitious circumstance has nothing to do with the worth of YOU, YOURSELF!
For a long while after you embark upon your new life, be watchful and studious—yet covertly, lest your study be noted. Return calls promptly, sending in the right number of cards, and bearing yourself in conversation with gentle self-possession. Never be flattered by any attention into a flutter of pleasure. Above all, do not be obsequious, be the person who honors you by social notice a multi-millionaire, or the Chief Magistrate of these United States. Servility is invariably vulgarity. Familiarity is, if possible, a half-degree more repulsive. Self-respect and a wholesome oblivion of dollars and cents are a catholicon amid the temptations of your novel sphere.
If you chance to entertain some one who is still as obscure as you were once yourself, avoid all temptation to make a display or to be patronizing. “I am so glad you could come to-night,” effusively commented such a hostess to one of her guests. “I know you go out so seldom!” The guest in question showed by her silence that she did not relish being publicly reminded that she was of limited social opportunities.