ot stand any longer the conversation of the average
young man of Society. I asked her why, and she then asserted that this
sort of young man confined himself to flat badinage and personal brag,
which he was mistaken in believing to be veiled. What she said was,
of course, perfectly true. Civilisation is responsible for the flat
badinage, for civilisation requires that conversation shall be light
and amusing, but can provide no remedy for slow wits; on the other
hand, the personal brag is a relic of the original man. The badinage
is the young man's defect in art; the brag is his defect in nature.
But I fail to see any objection to such conversation; on the contrary,
it is charming because it _is_ so average; you know beforehand just
what you will hear and just what you will say, and everything is
consequently made easy. The man puts on that kind of talk just as
he puts on his dress-coat; both are part of the evening uniform. The
motto of the perfect young man of Society is "I resemble." I pointed
all this out to the young girl in question, and she retorted that
it was a pity that silence was a lost art. However, she continued to
dine-out and to take her part in the only possible conversation, and
after all Society rather encourages theoretical rebellion, provided
that it is accompanied by practical submission.

[Illustration]

From the point of view of sentiment, a dinner has less potentialities
than a dance; but the dinner may begin what the dance will end; you
set light to the fuse in the dining-room, and the explosion takes
place six weeks afterwards in someone-else's conservatory. Nothing
much can be done on the staircase; but, if you can decently pretend
that you have heard of the young man who is taking you in, he will
probably like it. If, after a few minutes, you decide that it is
worth while to interest the young man, discourage his flat badinage,
and encourage his personal brag. The only thing in which it is quite
certain that every man will be interested is, the interest someone
else takes in him. Later on, he will probably be induced to illustrate
the topic of conversation by telling you (if it would not bore you)
of a little incident which happened to himself. The incident will be
prettily coloured for dinner-table use, and he will make the story
prove a merit in himself, which he will take care to disclaim vainly.
When he has finished, look very meditatively at your plate, as if you
saw visions in it, and