Gentlefolk have "friends" stopping with them, never "company." Servants have and keep "company."
When you refer to wine it means any kind of vintage, and not necessarily champagne. Therefore beware of the "gentleman who opens wine," or the one who gives a "wine party," whatever that may mean. We speak of a dinner, but not of a dinner party. A party to the play, no matter where the location of the places may be, is never a "box party."
Do not be a professed jester nor yet a punster. The clowns of society are not enviable beings.
When speaking of a fashionable woman do not refer to her as a "society woman." That would imply that she belongs to various societies or guilds, which is not probably the impression you desire to convey.
When a person has a predilection for the use of the word "elegant," and especially when it is employed in the sense of beautiful, good, charming, or delightful, you are quite just in your estimation of his or her vulgarity.
Answers to questions should be given in the direct affirmative or the direct negative. "All right" is not, to say the least, civil, and is ill-bred.
Never exhibit your accomplishments, unless "by special request," in the public parlors of hotels, or saloons of ships, or other places of general gathering. The persons who sing and play the piano and make themselves bores are as reprehensible as the window opening and shutting fiends, the fidgety travelers, the loud-voiced and constant complaining, all of whom are most obnoxious.
Under great provocation the expletive "damn" is tolerated by society, but it should be whispered and not pronounced aloud. The man who swears is certainly beyond the pale, and the one who uses silly and senseless exclamations is not far away from him. One of the marks of a gentleman is his complete mastery of himself under the most trying and aggravating circumstances.
These are but few of the many "don'ts" which it seems necessary to repeat in works of this kind. For a more extended catalogue of social and grammatical sins, the reader is referred to that excellent book The Verbalist, by Alfred Ayres, and the clever little brochure Don't. A careful study of these will assist him much in reviewing elementary questions, the knowledge of which was taken for granted by the author of the Complete Bachelor.