LUNCHEONS are among the most popular forms of entertainment that can be selected, when only a limited number are to be honored. To these affairs men are seldom invited, and there are not wanting those among the sterner sex who do not hesitate to attribute their banishment to desire on the women's part for the opportunity to chat uninterruptedly and unreservedly on those subjects presumed dear to their hearts—dress, babies, and servants. Other men go so far as to hint that gossip, and even scandal, engage the tongues of these much-maligned women, while even the most charitable husbands and brothers cannot refrain from openly expressing their pity for the unfortunate ladies debarred, for even a limited period, from the delights of the society of the lords of creation.

Casting aside the intimations respecting gossip or scandal as unworthy of notice, and tracing the animus of the other slurs to their source, in the overpowering jealousy on the part of their perpetrators that they are excluded from the select assemblages they affect to condemn, it may be said in refutation of the last charge that there are few women who do not agree in considering a luncheon among the most delightful of their social experiences. An invitation to one is usually hailed with joy, and a woman will undergo a good deal of inconvenience sooner than consent to decline it.

A luncheon is elastic in its nature, and may be of any size the hostess's fancy or judgment dictates. One woman may invite another to share the meal with her, and to help form that solitude À deux so delightful to two congenial souls. In such a case a long and elaborate menu is out of place, and not in the best form. What dishes there are should be wisely selected, perfectly prepared, and carefully served; but a multiplication of courses or viands is unnecessary, and savors of vulgar display. The same principle applies at any small luncheon. The definition of size is a rather difficult matter, but a company of this sort of not more than five or six persons may fitly be called small. With every addition to the number the need increases for more items in the menu.

For a small and unpretentious luncheon the invitations should not be issued long in advance, unless the hostess finds it necessary to do so in order to secure the presence of some especial guests. In that case, if the entertainment is to be very simple, it is as well to inform the guests of the fact when writing to them. Either a written or a verbal invitation is admissible. It should always be clearly understood, however, that the engagement, when once made, is no less binding than if it were a promise to attend the largest and most ceremonious dinner. Indeed, fidelity to one's acceptance and prompt attendance are even more obligatory at a small than at a large affair, because at the latter the defection of one person is less noticeable than it would be were very few expected to be present. In either case failure to keep the engagement is a grave breach of etiquette. It may be said, in this connection, that more of a compliment is implied by the request to be one of a small and—by inference—select band than is shown when the invitations embrace a larger party.

An even number is usually better than an odd number at a luncheon, unless the table is a large round one, about which the guests can gather without leaving an awkward gap on one side.

The covering for the table may either be a very pretty luncheon cloth with a little color about it, or else of plain white. Of course, should the hostess desire to have any one tint predominate in her table appointments, it is better to have the cloth of that shade or of white. If artificial light is required, candles give a pleasanter light than anything else, and one candelabrum of several branches is generally enough for a small table. Should this not sufficiently illuminate the room, the gas may be lighted and partially turned down, or a lamp or two may be placed on a mantel-shelf or on a bracket. There should always be flowers in the centre of the table, preferably a flat or low dish or vase, for where there are few guests they should be able to see each others' faces, instead of being obliged to dodge around a tall ornament that effectually conceals those seated on one side of the board from those placed on the other. Bouquets de corsage, while always pretty, are not essential at a simple luncheon, nor are cards necessary.

The table should be spread with the daintiest china and silver. At each plate must be the usual articles—knife, fork, tumbler, butter-plate, and napkin. A knife and fork for each course may be laid by every plate, the knives on the right side, the forks on the left. A roll or two or three sticks of bread must lie on each napkin. The usual little dishes of olives, salted almonds, pea-nuts or pistachio-nuts, radishes, bonbons, etc., should stand here and there, and by their color or sparkle add to the beauty of the repast.

The first course may be either beef or chicken bouillon. This is served in bouillon- cups, with covers and saucers, if one has them, or, if not, in tea or after-dinner coffee-cups. The latter are a trifle small, but one need not go to the other extreme, as was done at a lunch given not long ago, where the bouillon was served in mugs nearly as large as those commonly used for shaving, and quite as thick and heavy. It was impossible to help recalling the saying of the woman who declared that when she took coffee from one of the breakfast cups in use at most hotels she felt as though she were drinking it over the side of a stone wall. Bouillon is usually sipped with a spoon, however, although it is not out of the way to raise the cup to the lips.

The bouillon may either be on the table when the guests enter the room, or be brought in as soon as they are seated. It is followed by fish in some dainty form, as creamed fish, creamed or buttered lobster, croquettes of lobster, oysters, or fish; or oyster or lobster pÂtÉs. These are not passed in the dish, but are brought in already served, and a plate holding a portion placed in front of each guest. Rolls, French bread, or bread and butter are then passed.

The next course in a luncheon of this size need not be an entrÉe, although one may be introduced here. Sweetbreads, chicken cutlets, timbales of some sort, a vol-au-vent—any one of these will answer, but there is no violation of rules if it is omitted altogether at a small luncheon. In that case the next course—the piÈce de rÉsistance—may follow the fish directly, and may consist of French chops with pease, and potatoes daintily prepared, or chicken broiled, fried, or cooked in some attractive fashion, or broiled tenderloins of beef with mushrooms, or birds.

After this the salad appears, and may be of chicken, lobster, shrimps, oysters, or tomatoes, avoiding, of course, any meat or fish that has appeared earlier in the meal, even although in another form. The olives should be passed with this, and, indeed, may have gone the rounds during and between the other course, as have the salted nuts and the radishes.

The salad eaten, the table is cleared and crumbed, and the dessert brought in—ices in some pretty form, accompanied by fancy cakes. Fruit may succeed this, or it may be omitted, and the final cup of chocolate or coffee served at once. The bonbons now receive attention, and are usually carried into the drawing-room by the guests, who, being women, seem to find almost as much enjoyment in nibbling these as men do in discussing their post-prandial cigars.