It was not her wit, for with this she was not so greatly endowed; it was not alone her beauty, for the eminent men and women of the day followed her when, blind and poor, she sought the solitude of the abbey; but it was the delicate tendrils of her sympathy and the steadfastness of her friendship that drew towards her all hearts, and molded and welded her company of followers into one of the most perfect and powerful social circles that has ever surrounded any society leader.
Many an awkward situation has been saved by feminine tact. There was the cabinet-member’s wife who drank out of her finger-bowl because her guest, a senator, had done so. And the general’s wife who, when a clumsy tea drinker smashed a priceless cup, picked up another of the fragile affairs and crushed it between her fingers with a “They do break easily, don’t they?” And the woman who, when M. Blanc was mistaken at an English garden party for a page, replied, “Well, M. Blanc is a page—of history.”
This tact is in great measure a natural gift, but it can be cultivated, and is well worth the trouble. Nothing can be so utterly painful in society as the tactless person who is perpetually “doing those things which he ought not to have done, and leaving undone those things which he ought to have done.”
The art of conversation, too, is worth cultivating. A woman, noted among her friends for her delightful letters and as delightful gifts of conversation, was asked how she managed it.
“Frankly,” was the reply, “I strive for it. When I see in a book or hear anywhere a happy phrase, or a telling sentence, I make a mental note of it, and watch for an opportunity to incorporate it in my own speech or written word. I don’t mean I appropriate other folks’ ideas in wholesale fashion, but I do steal or utilize their knack of expression. Another point I make is never to permit myself to speak carelessly, that is, slovenly, any more than I let my hair be untidy or my gowns mud-stained. It does not seem to me frivolous or bestowing too much care on trifles to take this small pains for my betterment. I pin a flower on my dress for a bit of color, or adjust a bow where I know it is becoming; why should I not apply the decorative idea to my speech?”
Power through Repose.
Cultivate repose of manner. Be calm and restful. Do not fidget. Command of the tongue is a valuable accomplishment to cultivate. Many a young girl is actually fidgety, because she thinks to be a success she must be “full of life” and always “on the go.” She wants to be bright and vivacious. If such is her temperament and her vivaciousness comes spontaneously it is perhaps attractive, though it is very likely to get tiresome.
Nine out of ten women would be twice as attractive if they would learn to keep still and thus gain the full social value of this ability. Especially is this true of young girls. When a young man is introduced, why plunge at him with a volley of phrases? An effect is made twice as quickly if his look is met with steady, quiet eyes, a few words spoken in a gentle, sincere voice, and a chance given him. Presumably, he requested the introduction, and so, probably, he has something to say. Anyway, he is likely to have, if you are serene and quiet.
A habit of repose will save from many a blunder. When a man, one does not remember, plunges into a conversation, the habit of repose enables one to keep an unmoved and quiet demeanor until something is said that will “place” him. To be in a hurry to speak is to betray oneself, and embarrassment ensues on both sides.
This command of quiet is also a protection against tiresome, talkative, people. It enables one to preserve an air of kindly attention, while one’s thoughts, free and untrammeled, roam at their own sweet will, drifting back just in time to utter an appreciative affirmative, or negative.