A MUCH more ceremonious affair than that described in the preceding chapter is the large luncheon, where there are present anywhere from eight to twenty guests. The invitations for this are issued at least ten days, and often three weeks or more, previous to the date for which the guests are asked, and should be written, not verbal, except when given to an intimate friend. The recipient should reply at once. The hour set is usually one or half-past one, and the most punctilious promptness should always be observed. Nothing short of a serious accident or illness or a death in the family can justify any one in breaking such an engagement.

"People don't always keep that precept," says a woman, decidedly. "I can give more than one example to the contrary from my own experience. Here is an instance. I had a letter not long ago from a friend living out of town, begging me to fix a time when she could come and see me. She dreaded making the trip into town when it was doubtful if she would find me at home. I knew she had few outings, so I wrote and asked her to lunch with me upon a certain day, adding that there would be a couple of other old friends present whom she would be glad to meet again. The appointed day came, and was misty and drizzly. It never occurred to me that the weather would keep any one housed, and at the lunch hour 'the guests were met, the feast was set'—or, at least, two of the guests were there—but the one in whose honor they had been invited failed to appear. A whole mortal hour did we wait for that woman. Then in despair we sat down to a luncheon that had been in no ways improved by the delay. It was to have been a partie carrÉe, and one side of the table looked wofully blank and bare."

"But did you not get a satisfactory explanation of your friend's absence?" queries an interested listener.

"Only a note the next day, stating that as it had stormed, she had supposed I would not expect her. It never seemed to occur to her that she ought at least to have telegraphed."

"I had an experience that equals that," chimes in another. "I had promised a young girl friend a lunch party whenever she should come to the city. Just before the holidays she wrote to me that she would be in town for a week. I was run to death with Christmas preparations and social engagements, but I sent her a note at once, asking her to fix a day for her luncheon, and enclosing the list of guests—most of them old school friends—whom I would invite to meet her. She replied, setting a day. I went to no end of trouble and expense to get up the most recherchÉ luncheon I could devise. Just before the appointed hour one of the guests, who had promised to call for my young friend and bring her to my house, brought instead a verbal message that Jennie 'was not very well, and would be unable to come. She was extremely sorry,' etc. As I learned from another source that she went to the theatre that night, I concluded her indisposition, whatever it was, had not been very serious."

One marvels at the bad habits of good society in hearing such tales as these, but they are unfortunately common. Some persons appear to be deficient in a sense of good-breeding, as others are in an eye for color or an ear for music, and all the maxims in the world seem inadequate to instil what is missing.

One general principle may be laid down for the following of any woman who thinks of giving a large luncheon—don't undertake too much. If you cannot afford to engage the most difficult dishes from a caterer, be very sure that your cook is equal to preparing them in a satisfactory manner. Better have a few things, and have them well done, than a long menu of indifferently cooked viands. A large luncheon is no light undertaking at the best, except to those who have a practised chef and an expert butler, and a great deal of personal supervision is required to make it a success.

If the number of guests is larger than can be conveniently accommodated at one table, two or three smaller ones may be used. One table is rather prettier, however, as it admits of concentrating, instead of scattering, the decoration. The cloth should be white, or something very handsome in colors. A centre-piece of velvet or plush or satin, or of linen, embroidered, painted, done in cut-work or drawn-work, or something else equally elegant in material or ornament, should be laid down the middle of the table. An exquisite centre-piece may be made of bolting-cloth, hand-painted and trimmed with lace. On this a mirror is often placed, bearing the bowl, basket, or jar of flowers.

Tall candelabra should hold enough candles to light the room well, and each candle should have its tiny paper or silk shade and its glass bobÈche. If the gas must be used, it should be shaded. The dishes containing hors d'oeuvres—bonbons, glacÉ fruits, etc.—must be many, and their contents of the choicest.

The arrangement of silver, glass, and china may be the same as at a small luncheon, except that the amount of silver at each place must be increased. The bread sticks on every napkin must be tied with a narrow ribbon matching the broad one that ties the bouquet de corsage provided for the guest. Cards bearing the names of the guests indicate their seats, and may be either hand-painted or plain. Favors are often given, and should be placed on the table before the luncheon is announced.

Oyster or Little Neck clams compose the first course, and are followed by bouillon. Fish succeeds this; then comes one entrÉe, and sometimes two. Next is a dish of meat, with one or more vegetables, and then the Roman punch appears.

After this, game comes, and then salad. The table then being cleared, pastry in some form, or Charlottes or jellies are brought in, and this course in turn is succeeded by ices in pretty or fanciful shapes. An attractive caprice is that of ices or cream in the form of fruits heaped up in and rolling out of a basket of clear ice or spun sugar placed on a salver. Ices in small goblets or tumblers of clear ice are often served. The fruit comes next, and is accompanied by bonbons, glacÉ fruits, marrons, and the like. Last are coffee and chocolate.

Of the following menus, either one is suitable for a large luncheon:

1.
Raw Oysters.
Chicken Bouillon.
Creamed Lobster. Crackers or Bread and Butter.
Scalloped Chicken.
Sweetbread PÂtÉs. Green Pease.
Maraschino Punch.
Fillet of Beef, Mushroom Sauce.
French Fried Potatoes.
Broiled Squabs on Toast. Water-cress.
Chicken Salad.
Strawberries in Wine Jelly, with Whipped Cream.
Nesselrode Pudding. Biscuit. Fancy Cakes.
Fruit. Bonbons.
Coffee. Chocolate.

2.
Clams on Ice.
Bouillon.
Halibut Steaks, Cream Sauce. Parisian Potatoes.
Ham PÂtÉs. Green Pease.
Stuffed Crabs.
Chicken Cutlets.
Broiled Fillet of Beef, au MaÎtre d'HÔtel. Asparagus.
Roman Punch.
Quail on Toast. Celery Salad.
Fried Mushrooms on Toast, with Sauce À l'Espagnol.
Frozen Pudding. Whipped Cream.
Ices.
Fruit.
Coffee. Chocolate.

With either of these menus wine may be served, although there is not the variety of these at a ladies' luncheon that there is at a dinner. Claret may be served with the fish or first entrÉe, and drunk during the luncheon, or brought in with the game, or with the heaviest meat course. In some cases no claret is served, and the only wine is the small glass of sherry offered late in the meal.