More especially perhaps is an acquaintance with the "code" necessary to women for their own happiness, sensitive and keen by nature as they are and painfully aware of the slightest awkwardness; for, akin to the feeling of discomfort—I may almost say general disorganisation—produced by the consciousness of having on a badly-fitting gown, a hideous hat, or a shoe whose beauties are things of the past, just when there is urgent reason for wishing to look well, is the sensation of nervous depression brought on by suddenly awakening to the fact that one does not know quite "how to behave" or "what to do" in the circumstances of the moment.
I ought, I think, to begin by offering an apology to the many readers of The Girl's Own Paper who have no need of any instruction or hints on the matter for choosing a subject which always provokes a smile—either good-natured or cynical—when mentioned, on account doubtless of its being among those things which everybody is supposed to know. But there is no occasion for the already enlightened to wade through this paper. The heading will warn them off, and they can simply skip it all.
Leaving the majority therefore out of the question as in no way concerned, I address myself to the comparatively few; and, on the principle of taking the first step before attempting the second, I begin at the beginning and will try to answer queries which present themselves to my imagination as likely to be asked if people had the opportunity of asking them.
We will consider at starting the very ordinary occurrence of a dinner party about to be given; the invitations being sent out. These may be formal cards—"Mr. and Mrs. A. request the honour"—or the pleasure—"of Mr. and Mrs. B's company at dinner on Tuesday, the 8th of June, at 8 o'clock"—or merely notes—"Dear Mrs. A., will you and Mr. A. give us the pleasure of your company at dinner on," etc.
In either case the answer must be couched in the same terms as the invitation, except when, as sometimes happens, the inviter is a near relative or very intimate friend of the invited, in which event the formality may be disregarded in favour of a note. "Dear Mrs. B."—or the Christian name only—"we have great pleasure in accepting your kind invitation," or "We shall have great pleasure in dining with you," etc.
And here please be careful to notice the difference in the wording, and avoid a mistake constantly made in letters of this sort. People write, "I shall have much pleasure in accepting," not considering that the acceptance refers to the present, and consequently there is no "shall" about it. But if the phrase runs, "I shall have much pleasure in dining with you," it is correct because it refers to the dinner which is in the future.
The date fixed for the party arrives, and you make your appearance in your host's drawing-room, followed by your daughter—if she was asked—and then your husband. Never, on any account, go in arm-in-arm. It is a mistake very seldom made; but, as I have seen it happen occasionally, it must be mentioned. The old-fashioned arm-in-arm is, indeed, pretty nearly obsolete, except when actually going down to dinner or supper, or just through the hall to a carriage. At no other time, unless in some frightful crowd as a protection, is such a thing ever witnessed now.
Dinner is announced and you take your seats. With regard to the mode of eating, it may be roughly laid down that a knife is not to be used when spoon and fork will do, and a spoon should not be employed if a fork alone is sufficient. In the case of fish, silver knives are usually provided, and when they are not it is advisable to use two forks if one will not quite answer the purpose. Curry, properly cooked, requires no knife, only spoon and fork. Quails and cutlets, of course, must have a knife, but many entrées can be perfectly well managed with a fork alone.
It is hardly necessary, perhaps, to say that under no circumstances whatever, whether when eating vegetables, cheese, or any other thing, must a knife approach the mouth. Such an unbecoming as well as dangerous habit would at once mark the person indulging in it as standing in need of some little teaching.
On the other hand, we know that "fingers were made before knives and forks," and custom ordains the exemplification of this adage on certain occasions. Asparagus is eaten in the primitive manner, and requires some dexterity in conveying the end of a rather limp stalk to the mouth. Green artichokes are pulled to pieces leaf by leaf until the "choke" is reached, when fork and spoon come into requisition, and uncooked celery, after the thick end has been cut off, is taken up by the fingers. The fragile pencil-like things called "cheese-straws" must be eaten in the same manner, for they break if touched by any implement, and I well remember watching the dire confusion of a woman who vainly tried to catch some of the straws by pursuing them round and round her plate with a fork, the only result being a collection of unattainable splinters.