Social Customs/Chapter 5

We do not often associate in our minds the famous Magna Charta of English history, the source of so great a part of our modern liberty, and the insignificant bits of pasteboard which constitute modern visiting cards. Nevertheless, they come from the same Greek root, signifying paper; or, to speak more exactly, card is derived from charta (Greek χάρτης). Thus the sword is beat into the ploughshare, and the formal instrument for fettering the caprices of tyrants softens into the peaceful emblem of social recognition.

In the ancient "cartel of defiance" we find a more directly hostile meaning to our word—with a slight change in its form—than in charter. A cartel means, among other things, a challenge to single combat. Ben Jonson says, "You shall cartel him." Where two strangers quarrel, the one who has reason to expect a challenge presents his opponent with his card, so that the latter may know where to find him,—a pleasant little courteous preliminary to the most polite form of murder, the duel.

Under ordinary circumstances, however, the exchange of visiting cards is an eminently peaceful act, and would at the first blush seem to be a very simple affair. But with the perverse ingenuity in which the human mind delights, mankind, or rather womankind, has involved even this ap​parently innocent ceremony in a large amount of red tape and confusion. Nothing would appear to be simpler than for one neighbor to leave her card upon another; but it is just such apparently insignificant acts, such "first steps," that have embroiled nations in countless wars.

The following somewhat detailed account of visiting cards and their chief uses is submitted, in the hope that it may prove of use. It has been compiled from three sources,—personal experience; the works on the subject written by the best and most recent authorities; and last, but not least, from consultations with divers wise, witty, and fashionable women, to whom all the "newest fads" on both sides of the water are as familiar as A, B, C.

Visiting cards should be engraved in script, fine rather than large, and should be of unglazed cardboard. They should be perfectly plain, that is, without ornamentation of any sort; a fine, rather thin pasteboard is usually preferred for them. Indeed, very little room for individual taste is allowed in the matter of cards, which resemble each other much as one dress-suit resembles the next. German text is sometimes used for engraving the names, but it is more apt to go out of style than plain script. Very fine lettering, like any other singularity, is in bad taste. Gentlemen's cards are smaller than ladies', and are also narrower in proportion to their length. It was formerly a mooted point whether a gentleman's visiting card looked better with or without "Mr." prefixed to his name. Almost all young men of fashion now use the "Mr.," which is considered to be in better form.

For a lady there is no room for choice in the matter. She must always use "Miss" or "Mrs." on her visiting card. If ​a young lady, she may use either her initials or her full name, but never a nickname. "Miss Mamie Smith" on a card is in very bad form. Nicknames are all very well at home, or among intimate friends, but they are out of place on a visiting card because they are too familiar; and a card is, or should be, a formal matter. It is now the fashion for young ladies to have their names printed in full, thus:—

Indeed, every one who has a middle name, now displays it on his or her card.

An army or navy officer, a physician, a judge, or a minister may use his title on his card. For a physician, "M. D." is preferable to "Dr.," because the latter is such a very vague term, and means so many different things. Militia or complimentary titles are not used on visiting cards, nor are coats-of-arms. In this republican country it is considered an affectation and in bad taste thus to make use of them.

Husband and wife do not often now have their names engraved on the same card, except for wedding cards, or for sending wedding presents, etc. For visiting, each gentleman of the family has his own card, although, sooth to say, he seldom leaves it himself, intrusting that duty to his wife, his mother, or his sisters.

Every one's card should have the address of the owner engraved in the right-hand corner; that is to say, the street and the number where he lives, but not the name of the city. If a lady has a reception day, it is engraved usually in the left-hand corner. The address is often omitted from the cards of very young ladies, and sometimes from those of ​married ladies, in which case the card of the husband, with the address, must always be left. Young men belonging to a fashionable or well-known club often put its name, instead of their residence, on their cards. This is especially the case where they do not live at home, but board or have rooms in the city.

A married lady should have her husband's full name or his initials on her card, and not her own. Even where a woman occupies a prominent position in the world of art or letters she usually follows this rule, especially if she is at the same time what is technically termed "a society woman." Where the last name is not a very common one, a lady sometimes compromises the matter by using no initials, and calling herself simply "Mrs. Dunbar." But she has not, strictly speaking, a right to put "Mrs. Dunbar" on her card, unless her husband is the eldest married man of his family, or belongs to the eldest branch of it. Thus, where there are two brothers who are both married, the wife of the elder one only can use "Mrs. Dunbar" on her card. But if her husband has an uncle, even though he may be a younger man than his nephew, this right belongs to his (the uncle's) wife.

The same rule holds good for unmarried ladies. The eldest single daughter of the eldest brother, and she alone, has a right to use "Miss Cavendish" on her card, although she may have a cousin who is much older than herself but who is the daughter of a younger brother of the same family.

The existence of an aged aunt, or cousin belonging to an elder branch, will deprive both young ladies of this coveted privilege.

In this country, where we are considered by foreigners as being so very radical, we are in reality more conservative in the matter of merging a married woman's name in that of her husband than are most European nations. An Englishwoman of rank keeps her own title, where she marries a man of inferior station. If Lady Evelina Stuart marries Mr. John ​Smith, she becomes Lady Evelina Smith, and not Mrs. John Smith. So, on the Continent, it is quite common for a married woman to keep her maiden name in addition to her husband's, the husband's name being placed first.

A widow has no legal right to use her husband's initials; but she often prefers to retain them on her card, and it is entirely proper for her to do so, the question being one of sentiment and feeling alone. Where a widow has a son who is married, and whose name is the same as his father's, there may arise some confusion, however, between the two "Mrs. T. R. Jones," unless the older lady puts "Sr." on her cards, as she sometimes does. Widows often use their own names or initials, as "Mrs. Mary Jones," and it is perhaps less confusing for them to do so.

The custom of having the names of the daughter or daughters engraved below that of their mother is growing in favor. Thus:—

or

Indeed, those who are strict in the matter of etiquette say that a young lady should not leave her own card without ​that of her mother or chaperone during her first year in society. English etiquette is much stricter; according to its rules a young lady has no card of her own, her name being engraved on that of her mother.

When must one call personally, and when will it suffice to send cards by a servant or through the post? These are questions not so thoroughly settled in this country as in Europe, where the social treadmill has been so long in full operation that as a matter of necessity its laws have become definitely fixed.

As society increases in size, there is a growing tendency in our large cities toward simplifying the burden of social duties. It is not now considered necessary to call in person under various circumstances where formerly the rule was that one must do so. Even the post-office is coming gradually into requisition as an agent for discharging social obligations; but as yet it is only sparingly used, and with definite limitations.

Thus P. P. C. cards may be sent by mail, where the person leaving town has not the time to make a personal visit. Also, where one is unable to attend a reception, or an afternoon tea, cards may be sent by mail (it is better to send them by a messenger), to arrive on the day of the entertainment. This relieves the sender from the necessity of making a subsequent call; indeed, the unspeakable advantage of afternoon teas, kettledrums, and receptions is, that you enjoy your party and make your visit all at the same time. It is an economic device worthy the brain of a John Stuart Mill, and possibly secretly invented by him. The great popularity of afternoon teas no doubt arises from the fact that they are time-saving institutions.

Usually the servant who opens the door on these occasions has a little silver salver in his hand for the cards of guests; otherwise, guests leave their cards on the hall table, as a ​reminder to their hostess, who can hardly be expected to remember, after a large reception, every one who has been there.

When should P. P. C. cards be left or sent? P. P. C., it is hardly necessary to say, means Pour Prendre Congé (to take one's leave). Sometimes it is abbreviated thus, P. p. c., or p. p. c., but the capitals are used oftener than the small letters. These cards are used when one is going away from a place either permanently or for quite a length of time; and "P. P. C." is written in a corner of the card, usually the lower right-hand one, to emphasize this fact. One does not leave them, however, when about to go out of town for the summer, since this is only a brief absence, and an absence that is made by most people. On the other hand, it is quite proper to send or leave P. P. C. cards when one goes away from a watering-place or other summer resort, especially if the people to whom you send them do not live in the same city or town with yourself during the rest of the year. The obvious reason for the propriety of sending these cards in lieu of making a personal visit is, that when people go away they are almost always hurried; indeed, they are often obliged to leave very suddenly, and under such circumstances that making visits would be an impossibility.

Gentlemen in New York often send their cards by post, instead of calling, on New Year's Day, now that New Year's calls are going so rapidly out of fashion there. Some people do not approve of this custom, and think that a gentleman should either call, or take no notice of the day.

But there are certain visits which must be made personally if one does not wish to break the rules of good society and perhaps deeply offend people. After one has been invited to a dinner-party, one must call within a week after the occasion,—call in person, and ask if the hostess is at home. A dinner-party is one of the most solemn obligations of society; ​if you accept an invitation to one, only death or mortal illness is a legitimate excuse for not attending it, and you must have nearly as good a reason for not calling promptly after it.

According to the strict rule, one should also call within a week after any entertainment to which one has been invited; but this is often impossible, and resembles one of those rules in the Latin Grammar which have such a long list of "exceptions" that the rule itself seems quite dwarfed and insignificant beside them. The actual or "working" rule is that one calls, after every invitation, as soon as is practicable. In New York, it is allowable to send your card, although people of the old-fashioned sort would hardly think it the right thing to do. In Boston, it is more the custom to call in person, and very properly, because Boston is a smaller city, and the distances are not so immense as in New York, whose extreme narrowness of shape increases the effect of its great size. A pious subterfuge is practised, however, in the Puritan City and elsewhere, by which you send your empty carriage, the footman accompanying it and leaving cards.

Society holds young people, and people who have plenty of leisure time, much more strictly to account in the matter of visiting than it does elderly persons, or those whose hands are so full that they have comparatively little time to give to the claims of social life. A young mother with a nursery full of little ones, a literary woman, an artist, a professional woman,—all these are allowed a certain immunity from social duties. But no young lady must expect to find herself excused from paying calls because she is "too busy having a good time." If she can go to a party to amuse herself, she must call afterwards to acknowledge the attention her hostess has paid her by the invitation.

How often is it necessary to pay formal calls? Where no invitations have been received, once a year is all that the ​strict rules of society require in large cities. According to some authorities it is sufficient for such a formal call to leave cards at the door, or even to send them in an envelope; but it certainly seems more cordial and friendly to make the yearly call in person, and to ask at the door if the ladies are receiving, if one can possibly spare the time to do so.

As many servants in this country cannot reconcile it to their consciences to say a lady is "not at home" when she is in the house, it is often a wise precaution for the visitor to ask if the ladies are receiving on that day. Thus the conscience of Betty, which is curiously tender on this one point, considering her habitual views of truth, is spared, and the caller is often relieved from the necessity of making a formal call for which she perhaps has not really time. The servant too, from the form of the inquiry, and from seeing cards in the visitor's hands, is enabled to distinguish between a ceremonious caller and a friend of her mistress who really wishes to see the lady of the house.

Where there are several ladies in the house, it is usual for a caller to leave two cards; even three are sometimes left, where there is some stranger also staying in the house. But do not be too prodigal with your pasteboard, because that would seem a little ostentatious,—a little like "overdoing." It is said that one lady should never leave more than three of her own cards at the same house; she may of course leave cards for the other members of her family, in moderation. It is becoming quite customary for a wife to leave her husband's cards, and indeed for any lady to leave the cards of the gentlemen of her family even when she herself is admitted and pays her visit. In this case she leaves them on the hall table.

The custom of receiving on a certain day in the week is a sensible and hospitable one, but alas! it takes up a great deal of time. Where a lady thus sets apart a certain day for ​receiving her friends, it is much more polite to call on that day of the week when it is possible to do so. Especially is this the case when the ladies of one neighborhood or of one street fix on the same day for receiving friends. But the case is quite otherwise when a lady sends out cards announcing that she is "at home" on "Wednesdays in January and February." If one knows that a lady has thus issued cards for a series of receptions, even though they be quite informal occasions, one should avoid calling on those particular days unless one has received a card with the necessary invitation.

The custom of sending out cards for a certain day throughout one month is a very good one; a lady is thus enabled to receive her friends very informally, without giving up a great deal of her time, and she also avoids the "crush" that is apt to ensue if she gives only a single afternoon tea or reception.

The custom of cornering cards or turning them down at one end is going out of fashion. This is certainly cause for rejoicing, because the exact meanings of the various turnings have never been clearly established and understood in this country, as they are in Europe.

According to the doctrine that is usually received here, the turning down of one end (ordinarily the right end) indicates that you have called in person, while turning down one corner, usually the right upper one, means that the card is left for more than one person. Old-fashioned authorities insist that a card ought always to be turned down across the whole end, or else the recipient will suppose that the visitor has not called in person. This may have been true ten or fifteen years ago; it certainly is not true now. The custom of to-day is to leave the cards without any turnings, unless in calling upon people of the old school, in which case a lady would be apt to turn down her card, lest it might be supposed that she had not come in person.

​If she happened to have only one card remaining, and there was a visitor staying in the house, she would impress on the servant's mind that the card was meant for both ladies, or she might write on it "For Mrs. Jenckes and Mrs. Appleton." Where only one card is left, it is always held to be for the lady of the house.

After a removal from one part of a city to another, it is now becoming customary for ladies to send cards engraved with their new address to all their circle of acquaintance. These cards serve instead of a personal visit, as people evidently cannot make calls in the confusion consequent upon moving, and settling in a new house.

Although authorities differ on many subjects connected with manners, they all agree in saying that first calls should be promptly returned,—within a week, under ordinary circumstances. Brides who upon their marriage go to live in another city sometimes give great offence by neglecting to return visits of this sort; and it is entirely reasonable and natural that those who pay a first call, which is equivalent to an offer to make one's acquaintance, should feel hurt if their advance is not recognized and reciprocated.

In America, it is the usual custom for residents of a city or town to call first upon new-comers. Washington is a well-known exception to this rule, the strangers calling first, as indeed they do in most European cities.

It is also the custom in some cities for the older residents in a certain street or neighborhood to call upon those who have recently moved to that part; I need hardly say that these latter should by all means return such calls. The good old custom of interchanging neighborly civilities should certainly not be allowed to die out. It is not necessary to become intimate with your neighbors if they are not people who are sympathetic to you; but for two families to live next door to one another year after year, and never to show ​any token of mutual good-will, or perhaps even of mutual recognition, argues that their civilization is below that of rustics. Indeed, it would probably be considered as bad form even in Ashantee.

Except in the case of neighbors, a lady needs however to be very cautious about making first calls unless she is certain that her acquaintance will be considered desirable by those whom she visits in this way. Thus if Mrs. A. is a woman of greater wealth or higher social position than Mrs. B., the latter will hesitate to call first upon the former unless she is asked to do so, for fear she may be thought pushing.

Where society is divided into certain cliques or sets, as is too often the case in our cities, a lady belonging to the less fashionable clique should hesitate long before calling upon one of a more fashionable circle, even though she may have been introduced to the other lady, and may have met her a number of times on social or other occasions.

It is simply a question of the Golden Rule, which applies more to social customs than the unthinking realize or perceive. Do not call first on any one who your common sense tells you would in all probability prefer not to make your acquaintance, or, if that is already made, not to add you to her visiting list. True, this is mortifying to one's vanity, but it does one's vanity good to trample on it occasionally; and if we do this unpleasant office for ourselves, others will be less likely to do it for us. Vanity, moreover, can be well repressed without in the least injuring self-respect, which is a very different quality.

First calls must be returned personally as well as promptly, in order that you may not appear to slight those who have made the first demonstration of courtesy. A lady does not wish to be outdone in politeness even by some one whose acquaintance she may not especially desire.

​But if the lady who calls first only leaves her card, then the second lady responds by leaving her card in like manner; or if the first merely sends her card through the post, then the second does likewise.

An important exception to this rule is made where the lady who sends her cards through the post sends at the same time an invitation to some entertainment at her house. As this expresses more good-will and is a greater compliment than the making of a formal call, the second lady should receive the courtesy in the spirit in which it was meant. She should call very soon after the entertainment, and in person, since a first invitation is a more formal matter than subsequent ones, just as a first call is; and both must be responded to with special formality.

In making a first call, a card should be left for each lady of the family; where there are several young ladies who are sisters, and their mother is living, it suffices to leave two cards,—one for the mother and one for the daughters. A lady also leaves the cards of her own immediate family, in making the first call of the season, including those of her husband.

One married lady in calling upon another leaves two of her husband's cards,—one for the lady of the house and the other for the husband. Even if admitted, the caller leaves these cards on the hall table.

People who are in mourning should have a black border on their visiting cards; it is en règle to leave cards for people in affliction, though one should make inquiries at the door, and not ask for admittance, where one is not an intimate friend of the family. These cards of condolence are answered by enclosing mourning cards and sending them to people who have called in this way, after a proper lapse of time; that is, when the mourners feel ready to receive visits once more.

​One should also call, or at least send cards, when an engagement is announced, or when a marriage has taken place, in the family of an acquaintance. When a friend or acquaintance has made a prolonged absence, in Europe or elsewhere, it is usual to call upon her; but it is equally proper for the person who has been absent to make the first call if she prefers to do so. Society is growing so large in our great cities, and is likewise so self-absorbed, that the latter course is the wiser one if a lady wishes to recall herself to people's minds. She may naturally expect her intimate friends to make the first call; but she should not feel hurt if others neglect to do so.

It is the custom in New York, if not elsewhere, for people who are temporarily staying in the city to send their cards, with address upon them, to those whom they wish to have call; otherwise they might remain for weeks without their friends being at all aware of their presence in the city. Cards should not be sent in this way to mere acquaintances, however, unless they have especially expressed the desire to be informed of one's arrival.

Where one is invited to any entertainment by a new acquaintance, one should leave cards without delay, according to rule; but this is a canon which is certainly often violated. At least one should be very particular to call within a week after the event, even if one has also left cards upon receiving the invitation.

Those who send invitations to people to whom they owe calls which they have been unable to pay, sometimes enclose their cards with the invitation, thus showing that the call has been omitted from the pressure of time and circumstances, but not with intention to neglect. This should always be done when inviting those on whom one has never called, although the better way would be to call before sending the invitation.

​The hours for formal calling differ in different cities, though there seems to be a growing tendency in New York and Boston to make the calling hours later and later. A recent authority says that from four to six is the proper time to make ceremonious calls in New York; but many people call earlier than this, and in the short winter days it is surely allowable to make visits at least as early as three o'clock.

One should carefully avoid the lunch or dinner hour in calling even upon friends, and of course much more in the case of acquaintances. Where one has been told, however, to call at the lunch-hour, one is naturally at liberty to do so. People sometimes say, "Our lunch-hour is so-and-so; come and see me then, and you will be sure to find me at home." In such a case it is perfectly proper to go at the hour named; but if the friend is at lunch it is not polite to detain her. Word should be sent in that one will wait till the meal is over. If the friend comes out and asks you to the lunch-table, you should go in without peradventure, or else take your leave at once. It is very thoughtless, if not positively ill-bred, to play the part of dog-in-the-manger, and by refusing to comply with your friend's request, compel her to delay or go without her meal; and yet it is a thing that is often done, from want of thought.

Calling has become so ceremonious, and has grown to consist so largely of a simple exchange of cards, that a practice of making informal calls in the morning upon friends and intimates is coming much into vogue in our large cities. For these unceremonious visits a lady should not wear an elaborate toilette. Unless one is extremely intimate with a friend, however, it is best not to call at a very early hour, before twelve or one o'clock for instance.

A lady should always carefully consider her friends' occupations, habits, and ways of life, and should avoid making even a very friendly visit at an hour when she knows the ​person in question will probably be otherwise engaged. It may seem perhaps superfluous to mention such self-evident facts as these; but the truth is that it is just such rules that are often violated by well-bred people who are either thoughtless or selfish. "Save me from my friends" is a saying whose use is not yet accomplished and done with. Many people who would start back in horror at the mere thought of committing any breach of certain conventional rules, will wantonly violate the ethical and unwritten laws of good breeding without hesitation.

Thus, ladies in the country will make calls upon a friend in the morning hours, when they are well aware that the said friend has only one, or perhaps no servant, and is obliged to be busied over her housework. If the thoughtless caller happens to be rich in the goods of this world, and drives up to the friend's door in her carriage, she will be almost certain to mortify the other's feelings by her untimely arrival.

There is a certain gentleman in New York who moves in what is considered the best society, and who is very punctilious in most matters of ceremony; but he frequently enters the houses of his friends without first paying his respects to the door-mat. Well, possibly such men are to be found out of New York too. Other gentlemen endeavor to "sit each other out" when calling, although they know perfectly well that according to the laws of good manners the first-comer should be the first to take his leave.

According to strict rules, a gentleman should never call upon a young lady without asking also for her mother or chaperone; but where a young man knows a young lady very well this formality is apt to be dispensed with. Society in America is growing more strict on this subject, however, than it used to be, and the chaperone is gradually assuming larger and larger powers, and taking more and more the posi​tion of an English or Continental matron. It is a question upon which there is a wide difference of opinion, and of which more will be said in another chapter.

Certainly in making a formal call a gentleman should ask for the lady of the house as well as for the young ladies, and should leave cards for her and also for the gentlemen of the family. Although business men seldom make calls in person and cannot reasonably be expected to do so, a young man of leisure or a college student is not so easily excused for thus neglecting his social duties.

A gentleman should never call on a lady unless she has asked him to do so, or he has asked and received her leave to come. If he brings a letter of introduction, he may of course call, or if an intimate friend of the house—one who has a right to introduce people there—brings him. A lady is at liberty to ask a gentleman to call if she wishes to do so, although a young lady should not give such an invitation until she knows him quite well, and should always phrase it in such a way as to show that not she alone but her mother also would be pleased to receive the visit. "We should be glad to see you on any Wednesday afternoon," or, "I hope we shall see you at our house." Strictly speaking, such an invitation should come from the chaperone, and not from the young lady.

A gentleman is required to call at once upon receiving an invitation from a new acquaintance or a stranger, and also to call after the entertainment. But if he answers the invitation promptly, and calls soon after the gay event, whatever it may be, he does as well as most American gentlemen do; foreign etiquette is more stringent than ours on this, as on many other points.

It is quite permissible to leave cards without asking for the ladies of the house, where one is much pressed for time or has any special reason for not doing so; but it is not ​allowable on a lady's regular reception day, since this would imply that you did not care to see her.

This does not conflict with the rule in accordance with which one sends cards when invited to a special reception if unable to attend it. In this latter case the card is sent in acknowledgment of the invitation, serving also as a substitute for personal attendance. But while one may very easily be prevented from attending special receptions, one has not the same excuse where a lady has a regular day for receiving her friends throughout the season.

When one lady calls upon another whom she already knows, and when she finds the latter at home, she should not send up her card, but should merely give her name to the servant. This is English etiquette, and is also according to strict rule in this country. Nevertheless, cards often are sent up, either through a blunder of the servant or because that functionary looks so hopelessly stupid as to show that no name would be safe in his keeping for two minutes. In very stylish houses the servant announces the name of each visitor, where the lady of the house is already in the drawing-room.

It is not strictly necessary to leave cards upon the hall table where one is admitted to pay a visit, but it is very customary to do so, especially in New York. A card so left is intended merely as a reminder to the lady of the house that she may not forget who have called upon her. When calling upon a stranger, a lady should send in her card, but she must never, under any circumstances, hand it to her hostess.

It is considered uncivil not to see a caller who has once been admitted to the house, unless there is some very strong reason for not doing so; hence it is very desirable to give servants clear directions as to what they shall say to visitors, so that no one shall be admitted by mistake. But it is also ​very unpleasant to people who are making calls if they are obliged to wait a long time before seeing the hostess; therefore where one cannot appear for some little time, it is better to send word to the visitor that Mrs. So-and-so will be very happy to see her if she can wait five or ten minutes, as the case may be.

It is certainly very uncivil to keep a caller waiting for any length of time; if one cannot make one's appearance promptly, it is usually best not to detain a visitor. I have known elderly ladies to be very much annoyed when kept waiting in this way.

Where a caller has been admitted by mistake, and one cannot come down to receive the visit, the servant should be told to apologize for her mistress, and if the latter is just going out, or is lying down, the servant may very properly say so. Where the servant is uncertain whether or not her mistress is at home to visitors, it is usual to send up a card, although it is perhaps better form to send up the name only.

It is not considered polite to call upon a friend who is staying at another person's house, without leaving cards for the hostess also, even if the latter is a stranger to you; otherwise you appear to be making a convenience of some one else's house.

If admitted, it is usual for the caller in the course of her visit to ask whether or not the lady of the house will see her. While one must be careful to pay all due consideration to the hostess of a friend, one must also avoid forcing one's acquaintanceship upon her if she appears not to desire it, or if there is reason to suppose that she will not desire it.

The Countess * * * says in her book, "If there are visitors staying in the house, it is better to distinguish the cards intended for them by writing their names above your own." ​This could only be done when the ladies were not at home; and in America it is considered in better form not to write the names thus, unless when calling at a hotel. Still, it is sometimes done, "For Mrs. Roderick," or whoever the visitor may be, being written on the upper part of the card with a black lead-pencil. It is considered inelegant to write with a colored pencil, just as it is to use colored ink.

There should always be a special place—the hall table usually—for the cards of the day, and the servant should be instructed to leave them there until his mistress has seen them. She can then tell by their number whether the calls were intended for her visitor as well as for herself.

A young lady who is visiting at the house of a friend should not invite gentlemen to call upon her, without asking her hostess whether it will be convenient and agreeable to have them do so. She should also ask the ladies of the house to come down and have the gentlemen presented to them, lest she may appear to be selfish in receiving her callers, or to be doing so in a clandestine way.

Gentlemen leave their umbrellas in the hall, but bring their canes and hats into the drawing-room with them, in making morning calls, unless in houses where they are on the footing of friends. As a gentleman is not allowed to deposit these encumbrances anywhere save on the floor close to his chair, their management requires some little tact, or else the awkward man may step into his hat, and the forgetful one may depart without his cane. In making evening calls in New York, gentlemen now wear evening dress.

A lady rises when visitors enter, but need not cross the room to receive them unless she wishes to do so. If they are old friends, or people much older than herself, if they are persons of distinction, or if the lady who is receiving is of a very cordial disposition, she will be apt to go to meet them.

​But there is no universal rule on this point, and a lady may fitly follow the promptings of her own nature in the matter, taking care that she errs neither on the side of too great effusiveness nor, still worse, on that of over-formality. She should endeavor to pay equal attention to all her guests as far as is possible, and to have a few words at least with each of them.

Where a second visitor arrives after the first has already made a call of sufficient length, the visitor who came first should take her leave soon after the arrival of the second comer, but not instantly.

For a formal call, about fifteen minutes is usually considered the proper length of time; one may prolong it to half an hour occasionally, but only under "favorable circumstances," since it is far better to take one's leave before people begin to wish that one would go. Emerson says: "'T is a defect in our manners, that they have not reached the prescribing a limit to visits. That every well dressed lady or gentleman should be at liberty to exceed ten minutes in his or her call on serious people shows a civilization still rude."