If Mr. Smith and Mrs. Jones are themselves telephoning there is no long conversation, but merely: 

Mrs. Jones: 

    “Is that you Mrs. Smith (or Sarah)?  This is Mrs. Jones (or
    Alice).  Will you and your husband (or John) dine with us
    to-morrow at eight o’clock?”

    Mrs. Smith: 

    “I’m so sorry we can’t.  We are dining with Mabel.”

Or

    “We have people coming here.”

Invitations to a house party are often as not telephoned: 

    “Hello, Ethel?  This is Alice.  Will you and Arthur come on the
    sixteenth for over Sunday?”

    “The sixteenth?  That’s Friday.  We’d love to!”

    “Will you take the 3:20 train? etc.”

[Illustration:  “A GEM OF A HOUSE MAY BE NO SIZE AT ALL, BUT ITS LINES ARE HONEST, AND ITS PAINTING AND WINDOW CURTAINS IN GOOD TASTE ...  AND ITS BELL IS ANSWERED PROMPTLY BY A TRIM MAID WITH A LOW VOICE AND QUIET, COURTEOUS MANNER.” [Page 131.]]

CHAPTER XII

THE WELL-APPOINTED HOUSE

Every house has an outward appearance to be made as presentable as possible, an interior continually to be set in order, and incessantly to be cleaned.  And for those that dwell within it there are meals to be prepared and served; linen to be laundered and mended; personal garments to be brushed and pressed; and perhaps children to be cared for.  There is also a door-bell to be answered in which manners as well as appearance come into play.

Beyond these fundamental necessities, luxuries can be added indefinitely, such as splendor of architecture, of gardening, and of furnishing, with every refinement of service that executive ability can produce.  With all this genuine splendor possible only to the greatest establishments, a little house can no more compete than a diamond weighing but half a carat can compete with a stone weighing fifty times as much.  And this is a good simile, because the perfect little house may be represented by a corner cut from precisely the same stone and differing therefore merely in size (and value naturally), whereas the house in bad taste and improperly run may be represented by a diamond that is off color and full of flaws; or in some instances, merely a piece of glass that to none but those as ignorant as its owner, for a moment suggests a gem of value.

A gem of a house may be no size at all, but its lines are honest, and its painting and window curtains in good taste.  As for its upkeep, its path or sidewalk is beautifully neat, steps scrubbed, brasses polished, and its bell answered promptly by a trim maid with a low voice and quiet courteous manner; all of which contributes to the impression of “quality” evens though it in nothing suggests the luxury of a palace whose opened bronze door reveals a row of powdered footmen.