THUS far the descriptions of breakfasts, luncheons, and dinners have been given from the standpoint of the housekeeper. The outline of this, a more ceremonious meal than any before described, will be from the point of view of the guest, who regards everything as a mere spectator, and not with the eyes of the hostess, who has studied every step of the repast from its inception to its completion.

Two weeks before the dinner the guest receives his invitation, which may have been sent either by private hand or by post. The latter method in these days of "magnificent distances" is rapidly growing in favor. The invitation card, which is about three and a half inches wide by four and a half long, is engraved in a dashing script as follows:

Mr. and Mrs. Pelham Blank
request the pleasure of
Mr. —— ——'s company
at dinner on
—— —— ——
at half-past seven o'clock,
—— Gramercy Square.

The name of the guest and the date of the dinner are written in the blank spaces on the card. To this invitation he sends an immediate reply.

The guest reaches the house of his entertainers on the appointed evening at a few minutes before the dinner hour. In the coat-room he finds a man-servant in attendance, ready to assist in any trifling matters of the toilet, who hands each gentleman, on a silver tray, a tiny envelope, enclosing a card bearing the name of the lady he is to take in to dinner. Descending to the drawing-room, the name of the guest is announced at the door by a servant, who draws aside the portiÈre to allow him to enter. His first address is, of course, to Mr. and Mrs. Blank, who stand near the door receiving. The young man, Fidus by name, congratulates himself inwardly that he at least is on time, and, seeing at a glance how few of his fellow convives have arrived, marvels anew, as he has done often before, that well-bred people will be so careless of the laws that regulate good society as to arrive at a house ten, fifteen, and even twenty minutes after the hour fixed for dinner.

As Fidus has never met the young lady whose name is written on the card presented to him in the dressing-room, he promptly requests an introduction of his hostess, and chats with his fate for this evening until—all of the fourteen invited guests having arrived—a servant draws back the portiÈres and announces by a bow that dinner is served. Mr. Blank offers his arm to the guest for whom the dinner is especially given—a charming Englishwoman—and the rest of the party follow them to the dining-room. There is no suggestion of precedence, except as the younger guests naturally give way to the elders of the company. Mrs. Blank and her attendant cavalier come last.

The dining-room, a fine large apartment, is lighted only by candles; but there are plenty of these in sconces, in candelabra, in candle-sticks of odd and pretty designs. Flowers are all about wherever their use, either singly or massed, can produce a good effect.

The places at table are marked by plain white cards, each with the name of a guest painted on it in gold. The table decorations are quiet in effect, but in excellent taste. The cloth, of pure white plain damask, is covered through the centre with a scarf of elaborate drawn-work. In place of the towering Épergnes once so fashionable, the floral ornaments, candelabra, etc., are all low. Pink roses, white lilacs, and maidenhair ferns are the flowers used; and these are not arranged in set form, but are simply massed in cut-glass bowls, three in number, placed here and there through the centre of the table. The candelabra are also of cut glass, which is used wherever it is possible, in preference to silver. A corsage bouquet of the flowers mentioned above, tied with a wide pink ribbon, awaits each lady at her place, while a boutonniÈre lies beside the name card of each man. The candles are shaded with alternate pink and white shades, and the silver and china are of the daintiest and prettiest.

At each place are two large knives and a smaller one—one of these being supposed to be for fish, although it is decidedly contre les rÈgles to use a knife for fish—a small fork for fish, three large forks, a spoon for soup, and a small oyster fork. The knives are at the right, the forks at the left of the plate, and on the left is also the folded napkin containing the bread. The glasses for water and wine are on the right. There are generally four of the latter, for claret, sauterne, champagne, and sherry.

A plate holding raw oysters and a piece of lemon is at each place when the guests enter. When these have been eaten, soup is served, a consommÉ; and this is not brought to the table in the tureen, but is served from the side. Next comes the fish—a piece of salmon, with lobster sauce, it happens to be on this particular occasion—and it is followed by the entrÉes. To save time, three of these are served at once; but Fidus declines one, deeming it unwise to overload his plate and his stomach at so early a stage in the proceedings.

After the entrÉes comes the roast, with one vegetable; and the sorbet or Roman punch succeeds this, and precedes the game. Salad, cheese, and bread-and-butter compose the next course, and, the table being cleared for dessert, ices make their appearance. After these are disposed of come the fruit, bonbons, etc.

Wine has, of course, flowed freely during the repast, but the drinking has been very moderate, after all, and each guest has felt at liberty to refuse any of the wines offered. Sherry has been served with the soup, sauterne with the fish, and claret with the roast, while after the first course or two champagne has had all seasons for its own. At some dinners a larger number of wines are served, but this, so far from being essential, is not considered strictly good form. Nor have there been favors given, as one would suppose, from perusing books of etiquette, that this is a common custom at ceremonious dinners. Such a proceeding, while it might in one way be agreeable to the guests, would entail a heavy burden of expense upon the hosts, and might, moreover, place the recipients of these mementos under an obligation which they would not thoroughly enjoy. If favors are given, they should be pretty but inexpensive trifles.

The dessert discussed, the ladies leave the gentlemen to their own devices for a while, and retire to the drawing-room. Coffee might have been served before they quitted the table, but in this case it is sent to the ladies in the drawing-room, where they sip it leisurely, while the men enjoy theirs with their cigars in the salle À manger, and partake of the tiny glasses of cordial that is supposed to serve as an aid to digestion. When they finally leave the table two hours and a half have passed since they seated themselves, and they are quite ready to stand about the drawing-room chatting for a while after their prolonged sÉance.

As no music or other entertainment beyond the dinner has been arranged for the guests, they remain only about an hour after the meal is ended, and then make their acknowledgments and adieux to the host and hostess, and wend their respective ways homeward.