There is also the satisfaction of knowing that, as one cannot possibly invite all of one's dear five hundred friends to a little dinner, no one can be offended at being left out, thus rendering it easy to choose one's list to fit the circumstances.

Do not invite more guests than there is room to comfortably seat. Nothing so spoils a dinner as crowding the guests.

Seating the Guests.

Since, at no social entertainment are the guests so dependent upon one another for mutual entertainment as at a dinner, both by reason of its smallness and the compactness of arrangement, it will be seen that an equal care devolves upon the hostess in seating as in inviting her guests.

The most tedious of one's friends can be tolerated at a party where it is possible to turn to others for relief, but to be chained for two or three hours, with the necessity upon you of talking, or trying to talk, to the same dull or conceited individual that the fates have unkindly awarded as your companion, is a severe social strain upon equanimity of soul.

Hence, each hostess should strive to so arrange her guests that like-minded people should be seated together, and people with hobbies should either be handed over to those likewise possessed, or into the hands of some sympathetic listener, thus securing the pleasure of all.

Known enemies should be seated as far apart as possible, and, in reality, should never be invited to the same dinner. If this should inadvertently happen, they must remember that common respect for their hostess demands that they recognize one another with ordinary politeness.

Laying the Table.

Much has been said upon this subject in the department of "[Table Etiquette]," and as laying the table formally for a state affair approaches so nearly the proper setting of the home table, much will be found there that is available upon this important topic.

The table, which, since the introduction of the extension, is no longer the cosy round form which brought the guests so comfortably near one another, should be first covered with heavy felting, or double Canton flannel. Over this is to be laid the heaviest, snowiest damask cloth that the linen closet affords. This should have been faultlessly laundried, and is accompanied by large, fine napkins matching the cloth in design. These should be very simply folded, and without starch, and are laid just beyond the plate toward the center of the table. Square is the best form for folding, and each should contain a small thick piece of bread in its folds. This should be about three inches long and at least an inch thick. This is to be eaten with the soup, not crumbed into it. A roll sometimes takes its place. Some hostesses have the bread passed in a silver basket.