The preceding chapters describe established customs in home entertaining. Such rules remain in force for the home conditions. But who can live in this electric-motor age without noting the gradual variation in "the ways of doing things"—changes that are directly traceable to the influence of modern inventions? The trolley lines have brought large areas within the city limits; the swift automobile has reduced miles to furlongs. Town and country are intermingled as never before, and each is sensibly modified by the other. By its very name, the "Town and Country" club recognizes this new community of interests. Its members, living even twenty miles away, outdo Sheridan's ride, in arriving at the club on time for luncheon, golf, or dinner. Which brings to mind this fact: that to-day a large part of formal entertaining in cities is no longer at home. Elaborate dinners, teas, and luncheons are given at one's club, or at cafÉs, exclusive "tea rooms," and in the elegantly appointed private dining-rooms now provided by the best hotels. After-theatre suppers are almost invariably taken at a fashionable restaurant—doubtless greatly to the relief of both the hostess and her housemaids. While cooperative housekeeping is still an undeveloped scheme, things seem to be trending that way. The multiplication of huge apartment houses (and diminutive apartments) is the other prime factor in the case. While the hotel dinner may have come into fashion first as the dire necessity of the "cliff dwellers," its convenience appeals to many householders who formerly would not have dreamed of offering their guests the hospitality of a cafÉ. Many conservative people still deplore the innovation; but fashion approves, and the custom grows. Entertaining at one's club is governed by the rules of that particular club. When entertaining at tea rooms, or cafÉs, one has simply to arrange with the superintendent or the head waiter, for tables or private dining-room, for the date chosen; to choose the menu, and order the decorations. This done, the entertainers and their friends have but to appear at the stated hour and play their respective rÔles with care-free grace. These dinners may be given by a bachelor, to a mixed company, or to a bevy of the dÉbutantes, with the co-operation of a society matron or a married couple to chaperone the affair. This is a very pleasant way for a bachelor to make return for the social attentions showered on himself. This way of entertaining may be lavishly expensive, but it is not necessarily so; all things considered, it may not greatly exceed the cost of similar entertaining at home. In this land of the free, any one who will may give a tea room luncheon. But the semi-publicity of these functions invites criticism; and people of moderate income discreetly forbear attempting anything too ambitious for their obvious means. Elegant simplicity is always good form. The universal use of the telephone is another factor in the modification of social customs. Among familiar friends, the little chat over the 'phone largely takes the place of the informal call. Also, invitations to any but strictly formal functions are now sent by telephone, if agreeable to both parties; though it is still considered better to adhere to the more respectful written form if there is any doubt about the new way being acceptable to the party of the second part. While I counsel conservatism in these changes, I am convinced that the new dynasty of wire and wireless is destined to dominate us; and as discovery continues and inventions multiply, the time is near when immediate communication will be had at long range; possibly telepathy—who knows? Or, possibly tele-photography with it—why not? Then, the slow, laborious writing of messages will be as much out of date as the super-annuated stage-coach. But—not yet; we are still in the process of evolution. It is still safe to heed Pope's famous advice: "Be not the first by whom the new is tried, |