out a silver salver for it, or you put it on the table prepared for cards. This is done because, seeing many people, your hostess may not remember all who were there, and the little bits of thin pasteboard tell of her visitors and warn her of those to whom she owes either a personal visit or a return card. You called one day on a friend who lives very quietly, and who opened the door for you. For her a card must be left also, and as you are a bright girl you can either do it before her, reminding her that you do not intend to let her forget that you came to see her, or you can leave it in the hall when you are alone, for your hostess does not accompany you further than the drawing-room door.
ABOUT YOUR SWEETHEART
You sat and wondered about your sweetheart. As yet your engagement is a secret. When you came to town you let him know where you were, and you expected that he would call that first night, ask specially for you, and that a tête-à-tête would be the result. But he is a well-bred young man who understands the rules of society, and so he did what was correct. He called about five o'clock in the afternoon, asked for your hostess, her daughter and you, and one of them went down with you to see him. When he wished to take you to