The Old-Fashioned Day At Home

It is doubtful if the present generation of New Yorkers knows what a day at home is! But their mothers, at least, remember the time when the fashionable districts were divided into regular sections, wherein on a given day in the week, the whole neighborhood was " at home." Friday sounds familiar as the day for Washington Square! And was it Monday for lower Fifth Avenue? At all events, each neighborhood on the day of its own, suggested a local fê te. Ladies in visiting dresses with trains and bonnets and nose-veils and tight gloves, holding card cases, tripped demurely into this house, out of that, and again into another; and there were always many broughams and victorias slowly " exercising" up and down, and very smart footmen standing with maroon or tan or fur rugs over their arms in front of Mrs. Wellborn's house or Mrs. Oldname's, or the big house of Mrs. Toplofty at the corner of Fifth Avenue. It must have been enchanting to be a grown person in those days! Enchanting also were the C-spring victorias, as was life in general that was taken at a slow carriage pace and not at the motor speed of to-day. The " day at home" is still in fashion in Washington, and it is ardently to be hoped that it also flourishes in many cities and towns throughout the country or that it will be revived, for it is a delightful custom—though more in keeping with Europe than America, which does not care for gentle paces once it has tasted swift. A certain young New York hostess announced that she was going to stay home on Saturday afternoons. But the men went to the country and the women to the opera, and she gave it up.

There are a few old-fashioned ladies, living in old-fashioned houses, and still staying at home in the old-fashioned way to old-fashioned friends who for decades have dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat. And there are two maiden ladies in particular, joint chatelaines of an imposingly beautiful old house where, on a certain afternoon of the week, if you come in for tea, you are sure to meet not alone those prominent in the world of fashion, but a fair admixture of artists, scientists, authors; inventors, distinguished strangers—in a word Best Society in its truest sense. But days at home such as these are not easily duplicated; for few houses possess a " salon" atmosphere, and few hostesses achieve either the social talent or the wide cultivation necessary to attract and interest so varied and brilliant a company.

Modern Card Leaving: A Questionable Act Of Politeness

The modern New York fashion in card-leaving is to dash as fast as possible from house to house, sending the chauffeur up the steps with cards, without ever asking if anyone is home. Some butlers announce " Not at home" from force of habit even when no question is asked. There are occasions when the visitors must ask to see the hostess (see page 88); but cards are left without asking whether a lady is at home under the following circumstances:

Cards are left on the mother of the bride, after a wedding, also on the mother of the groom.

Cards are also left after any formal invitation. Having been asked to lunch or dine with a lady whom you know but slightly you should leave your card whether you accepted the invitation or not, within three days if possible, or at least within a week, of the date for which you were invited. It is not considered necessary (in New York at least) to ask if she is at home; promptness in leaving your card is, in this instance, better manners than delaying your " party call" and asking if she is at home. This matter of asking at the door is one that depends upon the customs of each State and city, but as it is always wiser to err on the side of politeness, it is the better policy, if in doubt, to ask " Is Mrs. Blank at home? " rather than to run the risk of offending a lady who may like to see visitors.

A card is usually left with a first invitation to a stranger who has brought a letter of introduction, but it is more polite—even though not necessary—to ask to be received. Some ladies make it a habit to leave a card on everyone on their visiting list once a season.

It is correct for the mother of a dé butante to leave her card as well as her daughter's on every lady who has invited the daughter to her house, and a courteous hostess returns all of these pasteboard visits. But neither visit necessitates closer or even further acquaintance.