DEAR MISS MANNERS: Now that half of medical school classes consist of the kinder gender, I think it would be nice for Miss Manners to go over the issue of how to address the female physician, socially and professionally.

My pet peeve is to be addressed as Mrs. Curall, especially since I never changed my name, EVER, even when I was married, which I am not, thankfully, now.

There seems to be a segment of Americans who are quite uncomfortable with addressing any female with any other title than Mrs. I encounter this most often at churches. Being quite religious, I hate to give up churchgoing because of this.

It seems as if a lot of these folks would choke on the words Dr. Curall, and I fear that if I insisted on my ONLY title, that my medical skills would be needed in that setting. But I seethe every time I hear myself called Mrs. Curall, which is technically incorrect anyway. My mother is Mrs. Curall.

Being a hyphenated American, I feel that this is a way for a nonhyphenated American, the usual offender, to put one down. How do you think I should handle this?

I appreciate Miss Manners helping the medical profession out this way. I am sure one of us will be of great service to Miss Manners in the future. But not too soon, I hope, for Miss Manners' sake.

GENTLE READER: She thanks you for the kind offer and thought, and assures you that it would not be necessary in this case for you to be introduced to her socially as a doctor. If she managed to stay on her feet, she would not dream of pumping you for medical information at a party; and if she were sinking into a state of emergency, she would hope that a doctor would volunteer herself, rather than watch this coldly from the distance as revenge against not receiving her proper due.

The rest of your letter sounds less like what you call the kinder gender than a subdivision we might call the prickly gender. It is true that a medical doctor uses her title socially, although Mrs. is also a respectable title, and some choose to use that socially while being Dr. professionally.

But it is even truer that few people use titles at all in addressing one another, and even those who do have little regard for the nicety of getting it right. One may say gently, once or even twice, "actually Curall is my maiden name, not my former husband's, and I'm a doctor," but it is as uncharitable to assume an intentional insult -- and an ethnic or racial insult, no less -- as it is to express public thanks at having rid oneself of one's husband.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When entertaining people in one's home, for dinner and an evening visit, is it appropriate for the host or hostess to bring the visit to an end when he or she feels that a reasonable time has been spent and the conversation is still viable?

Is the intent of having pleasant memories and good conversation to be continued at a later date sufficient, or should the guests be allowed to determine when it is time to leave? Should the guests be offended if the visit was concluded before they decided it was time to leave?

GENTLE READER: The answer is no, it is not appropriate to dismiss a guest in one's home. The real question is how the host can get away with doing it before bursting into tears of exhaustion.

Miss Manners has heard all the standard ploys, from cutting off the drinks to changing into pajamas, but prefers the simple but gracious alternative. That is for the host to jump to his feet and say, "It's been wonderful having you here," for all the world as if he had heard the guest say, "I'm afraid I'd better be going now."

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Nice guys are said to be back in romantic favor. These are the gentlemen who are unfailingly polite and dependable, and who grow even more useful and sympathetic when things go terribly wrong. Miss Manners trusts that it is not hard to figure out what national event brought them out of ignominy.

So, a happy Valentine's Day to all who are always told what dear, good friends they are. They have the testimony of numerous attractive ladies who turned to them for comfort when they were badly treated by the cads they adore, and needed a brotherly shoulder on which to cry before returning to the romantic fray.

Miss Manners happens to admire these gentlemen, who take care to follow her strictures about proper behavior. They listen as well as talk, and take into consideration other people's needs and preferences, along with their own. They honor their word, even if it drives them to the extreme of having to show up for an appointment they themselves contracted or accepted. They give thanks when it is due, and have been known to produce something nice, such as flowers or candy, when it is not required. They even know how to dress, eat, speak and perform other ordinary human functions.

In theory, they are much beloved for all these good qualities. It is only when they try to have an actual romance that they run into trouble. So do the objects of their affections, but in that case, the trouble comes when the ladies in question try to explain to their hopeful parents why they are not interested.

Like those poor parents, Miss Manners has never understood what was so unappealing about gentlemen's roses and reliability, and so appealing about the shenanigans and sloppiness of their rude rivals. Or rather, she understands, but does not share, these tastes. Therefore, she feels obliged to warn those nice gentlemen not to get their hopes up.

It takes more than a national tragedy to make maturity seem exciting for long. It takes maturity.

The jump-start kind that comes with unusual fear doesn't last. If the world calms down, Miss Manners can't see its pubescent girls giggling to one another, "I can't help myself -- he's just so sensible! When he gets all responsible like that, I could die!"

It's not the era that is important, but the stage of life reached by the individual. Through their teen-age-hood, most people are testing their desirability by aiming high, which they define as being someone who can afford to treat them badly. A few seem to be born with the maturity to realize what a dumb standard this is, some wise up after years of disillusionment, and some never do, but the average person should catch on in early adulthood.

So what the nice gentlemen need to look for in a romantic partner is the fine qualities they themselves possess. But then, maybe they would find that comforting but dull, and can only find excitement in being scorned.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the time frame in which a house-warming party can be given? I read somewhere that a house-warming party should be given within a year after purchasing the house, but that after a year a house-warming party would not be appropriate because the house would no longer be considered new. I know that most warranties for new homes are for a year, but would this translate into the appropriate period for a house warming party?

GENTLE READER: The warranty has nothing to do with it, Miss Manners is afraid. And the house doesn't even have to be new.

The test is whether it is newly enough in the possession of the present owners that their friends can still have a wonderful time wandering around saying, "I wonder if they know that that's dry rot?" and "That must be the undercoat -- no one would choose that as the final color." If they have already had the opportunity to do that, then there is no point in giving the party.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I was baptized, I backed up my written invitations with additional e-mails to my closest friends.

One of these, knowing the exact date, time, and venue, replied, "Of course I'll come along!" but did not appear. As she was more than six months pregnant, I was afraid she was lost or in distress.

In fact, my written invitation had not arrived, and as for the e-mail acceptance, "You didn't remind me!" After repeating this several times, my friend angrily left to take a bath, leaving me to converse with her husband, who clearly had never been told of the invitation. I felt deeply hurt but did not let him see it.

We had separate plans for her to visit me the week after (dinner, sci-fi tapes), but her husband, concerned about her tiredness, secretly asked me to cancel. I did so, apologetically; and she expressed her relief, saying "I thought I had to come over after I let you down, when we'd had last Sunday arranged for weeks and weeks."

Now I phoned to enquire about the fate of two Christmas packages I had sent them and their 8-year-old. Her husband helpfully pointed out that I had been sending mail to the house next door for three years. He confirmed that the packages, like most everything except my invitation, had arrived (though no thanks were forthcoming, which made me feel worse).

Do e-mail confirmations still count when the written invitation is lost through the sender's carelessness? If not, how may I make amends? I do not want to make enemies over a baptism!

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners is concerned about your friends, too. For three years, they said nothing about your misaddressing their mail, and now they are insulted that they didn't receive your letter. They don't honor their own spoken acceptance of your invitation, and they don't thank you for presents that they admit receiving. They scold you for not nagging them, and they express relief that they don't have to see you.

Miss Manners is glad you don't want to make enemies over a baptism, but you may not have to.

She would prefer to talk about the question you raise in regard to people who are, shall we say, less etiquette-challenged.

What is now being called a "pre-invitation," or a "save-the-date" notice, for an important event should indeed be followed by the actual invitation. But as it is unthinkable (except possibly in the case of those friends of yours) that someone would issue the first and then strike the guest off the list, failure to do so should be presumed to be a mistake. It is your friend who should have been in touch with you to say, "Is your baptism still on for that date you mentioned in your e-mail? I wondered, because I never heard anything more about it."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A girl at my school walks home with me and is bossy because she is always early out of class. She says that me and my friends are always slow, and she needs to get to ballet class. Do you think I should tell her to walk home by herself if she is in such a hurry? Otherwise, what shall I do?

GENTLE READER: You could take up ballet. But, of course, you can tell her to go ahead, provided Miss Manners can trust you say something like, "Sure, go ahead, I'll see you later," and not "Oh, go walk by yourself if you're in such a big hurry."

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