E V Lucas

Adventures and Enthusiasms E V Lucas

There are certain qualities that we all claim. We are probably wrong, of course, but wedeceive ourselves into believing that, short as we may fall in other ways, we really can dothis or that superlatively well. "I'll say this for myself," we remark, with an approvingglance in the mirror, "at any rate I'm a good listener"; or, "Whatever I may not be, I'm agood host." These are things that may be asserted of oneself, by oneself, without undueconceit. "I pride myself on being a wit," a man may not say; or "I am not ashamed of beingthe handsomest man in London;" but no one resents the tone of those other arrogations, even if their truth is denied. It is less common, although also unobjectionable, to hear people felicitate with themselveson being good guests. Indeed, I have lately met two or three who quite impenitentlyasserted the reverse; and I believe that I am of their company. Trying very hard to be good Ican never lose sight of the fact that my host's house is not mine. Fixed customs must besurrendered, lateness must become punctuality, cigarette ends must not burn themantelpiece, one misses one's own China tea. The bathroom is too far and other people useit. There is no hook for the strop. In short, to be a really good guest and at ease under alienroofs it is necessary, I suspect, to have no home ties of one's own; certainly to have no verytyrannical habits