Dear Mary | 12 July 2008

Q. While staying in Gascony a local grandee, with a formidable brain and a château of great historical importance, was invited to dine. As dinner proceeded one of the two female houseguests seated next to him transmogrified herself from a kind, cosy, close and down-to-earth friend of mine, into a cross between Simone de Beauvoir, Françoise Hardy and some sort of Mata Hari. She poured (recently acquired) intellectual and musical opinions down the poor throat of the Frenchman while the other female friend, who also lives in an important house in England, was able to chat amiably and casually to this rather imposing guest. My hostess speaks perfect French and thus she too was able to exchange Proustian pleasantries. My presence went almost entirely unnoticed. Then suddenly I saw my moment and told the story of my brother finding a carpenter’s letter dated l6l7 in a secret drawer of my late aunt’s important secretaire, currently on display at the V&A. The Hardy/de Beauvoir houri screeched with laughter in a cruel and patronising way to the entire table that I was lying. I retreated hurt and humiliated (even though I spied the grandee smiling affectionately and sympathetically at me). I am a grown woman and in my own modest way well read and well rounded in political and intellectual thought — how can I be more assertive in situations such as this?

A. Much better not to be assertive. A man of the distinction you describe usually prefers proximity at dinner to a quiet Cinderella figure who is not making a frantic effort to impress him. Apologies for insults received can be sought in the sober light of day. In the meantime it is your duty to your host to maintain a genial atmosphere at the table and not escalate any unpleasantness.