Do not loll about in your chair, if a gentleman (a lady scarcely needs this caution), keep your feet squarely in front of you, not crossing them; ladies would do well to heed this also. Do not torment pet dogs or cats, or tease the children. Do not call the length of the room if you wish to address any one, but cross the room and speak to him quietly. Neither should you whisper to some one of the company, twist or curl your thumbs or hands, or play with the tassels on the furniture or window curtains, or commit any of the thousand and one blunders that mark the underbred and nervous visitor and render his presence an unwelcome trial.
There are a few other rules that would seem unnecessary to mention here were it not that they are so constantly sinned against. Among others it may be suggested not to do anything disagreeable in company. Do not scratch the head or use a toothpick, earspoon or comb; these are for the privacy of your own apartment. Use a handkerchief whenever necessary, but without glancing at it afterwards, and be quiet and unobtrusive in the action as possible. Do not slam the door, do not tilt your chair back to the loosening of its joints, do not lean your head against the wall, as it will soil the papering; in short, do unto others as you would be done by.
Do not tell long stories, more especially if they are about yourself; do not argue; do not talk scandal, and be sure not to attack the religious beliefs of any one present. Do study the chapter on the "Art of Conversation," and cultivate, as much as possible, that self-repose of manner that is, above all things, a sign of the lady or gentleman.
The Reception-Room.
The arrangement of the reception-room itself has much to do with the pleasure of the visitor. Who does not remember those delightful parlors where the guests dropped into pleasant conversational groups as by magic, and contrast them mentally with those other chilly apartments where a sort of mental frost seems to settle over one's faculties and incapacitate them for use. Much of this may be avoided by a judicious arrangement of chairs and couches, just where people drop naturally into easy groups, or, for the time being, surround their hostess.
Propinquity is a great incentive to pleasant conversation, for there are few people that can talk the pretty nothings and sparkling witticisms, whereof parlor conversation properly consists, across space to people stranded against the opposite wall. Therefore let the hostess, who would have her symposiums remembered with delight, see to it that she has an abundance of chairs, both easy and light, easy ones for the refreshment of the weary in body and light ones that may be quickly moved when the spirit moves toward some other group.
A clever woman, to whom all social arts were long-solved problems, once said that she always observed how the chairs were left in a drawing room where several people had been sitting and put them in the same position next time. A group near the door where the casual caller will naturally drop into one and the hostess into another, without the least effort, will be placed in the best possible position for a little chat. Fulfill these conditions and your drawing room will be often filled and the fame of it will go abroad.
Formal calls, as a rule, are at best but a duty performed that brings a satisfaction in itself, but it sometimes happens that, as a reward for our well-doing, some word may be said, some friend may be met by a happy chance that is like a gleam of sunshine on a cloudy day.