“The social season is just beginning in our town, and there is a party, or ball, or something of the sort almost every evening. I enjoy going out more than anything else, but my parents object to my doing so, and scold me continually. I am sixteen years old, and it does seem to me that I ought to be allowed to have some fun. Don’t you think they are awfully mean not to allow me pleasure of this sort? “Annie S.” Your parents are a great deal wiser than you are, Annie, and we advise you not to go contrary to their wishes. You are much too young to be thinking of social pastimes. Stay at home for a year or two more at least, and spend your time with your books improving your mind and fitting yourself to be a useful, helpful woman. When you do begin to go out again make your pleasures incidental to your life, and do not allow them to absorb your whole time and thought. “I have read every number of ‘My Queen’ and have enjoyed them immensely. I think Marion the sweetest girl that ever lived, and I am sure that her creator, Miss Shirley, is awfully wise. Will she be kind enough to spare time to give me a little advice? I am nineteen years old and have been in society for two years, but, somehow, I don’t get along in company a bit. Other girls laugh and talk, but I can never find anything to say, and the men all vote me a bore, I am sure. Can you tell me of some magic method by which I can attain the social graces. “Jean R. R.” Thank you for your kind words in regard to “My Queen” and the author’s wisdom. Experience is the only teacher, Jean, and a hard one at that. Do not be disheartened if you do not attract the men who like the chattering, giggling girls—probably you will attract the quietest and most substantial, and make firmer friends of them than the other girls could possibly make of the other men. In a general way, you can probably overcome your diffidence and backwardness in conversation by endeavoring to discover in what subject a man is interested and then talking of that. If he finds that you are interested yourself in his fads he will take interest enough in you to interest himself in yours, and then the wheels of conversation will run smoothly enough. “One of the best fellows in the world has asked me to become his wife. I esteem him highly—I might almost say that I love him if I had not decided long ago to leave the word ‘love’ out of my dictionary. I feel that I would be happy indeed if I were his wife, but there is a chapter in my life that I dread to tell him, and still I think too much of him to marry him without being perfectly candid. Won’t you tell me what to do? I am heart-broken over the situation. “Marie W. S.”