In cities twenty-five years ago, a young girl had beaux who came to see her one at a time; they in formal clothes and manners, she in her “company best” to “receive” them, sat stiffly in the “front parlor” and made politely formal conversation.  Invariably they addressed each other as Miss Smith and Mr. Jones, and they “talked off the top” with about the same lack of reservation as the ambassador of one country may be supposed to talk to him of another.  A young man was said to be “devoted” to this young girl or that, but as a matter of fact each was acting a role, he of an admirer and she of a siren, and each was actually an utter stranger to the other.

=FRIENDSHIP AND GROUP SYSTEM=

To-day no trace of stilted artificiality remains.  The tete-a-tete of a quarter of a century ago has given place to the continual presence of a group.  A flock of young girls and a flock of young men form a little group of their own—­everywhere they are together.  In the country they visit the same houses or they live in the same neighborhood, they play golf in foursomes, and tennis in mixed doubles.  In winter at balls they sit at the same table for supper, they have little dances at their own homes, where scarcely any but themselves are invited; they play bridge, they have tea together, but whatever they do, they stay in the pack.  In more than one way this group habit is excellent; young women and men are friends in a degree of natural and entirely platonic intimacy undreamed of in their parents’ youth.  Having the habit therefore of knowing her men friends well, a young girl is not going to imagine a stranger, no matter how perfect he may appear to be, anything but an ordinary human man after all.  And in finding out his bad points as well as his good, she is aided and abetted, encouraged or held in check, by the members of the group to which she belongs.

Suppose, for instance, that a stranger becomes attentive to Mary; immediately her friends fix their attention upon him, watching him.  Twenty-five years ago the young men would have looked upon him with jealousy, and the young women would have sought to annex him.  To-day their attitude is:  “Is he good enough for Mary?” And, eagle-eyed, protective of Mary, they watch him.  If they think he is all right he becomes a member of the group.  It may develop that Mary and he care nothing for each other, and he may fall in love with another member, or he may drift out of the group again or he may stay in it and Mary herself marry out of it.  But if he is not liked, her friends will not be bashful about telling Mary exactly what they think, and they will find means usually—­unless their prejudice is without foundation—­to break up the budding “friendship” far better than any older person could do.  If she is really in love with him and determined to marry in spite of their frankly given opinion, she at least makes her decision with her eyes open.