DEAR MISS MANNERS: Many years ago, I made a professional mistake, which was very public, cost me a career, and has cast a long shadow since. My error arose from honest miscalculation without bad intent. However, others in the organization were glad to use me as a shield to cover up their bad intent and preserve themselves.

I said little at the time, attempting to accept my responsibility for this situation (and because of overblown feelings of guilt). I might add that I received support from kind, thinking people who understood the situation because they were in a position to know the facts.

I am passed by some people without even the trappings of civility, such as "hello" or "how are you?" After 20 years, may I abandon my brief factual answer to the transparent question, "What are you doing now?" Long ago, I concluded this was simply grapevine fare; now I feel that my prescription on forbearance has run out, and I am inclined to say, gently, "Thank you for your interest" and remove myself.

I would like to find some elegant way to ask these people to give it a rest.

GENTLE READER: You may find this a relief, or it may gall you even more, but Miss Manners feels obliged to tell you that after 20 years, most people don't remember exactly why they are cutting you.

She can assure you that the only people to whom the case is still vivid are the ones who were guilty themselves. Others, who went along with the snub originally because the consensus was against you, are now just doing it out of habit.

Do you want to stir them up so that they feel they have to justify themselves? That is what any sort of a reprimand, no matter how elegant, would do. Predisposed to think you bad in some vague way, they would now remember you as the person who embarrassed them.

If you want the ban to end, you must act as if it already had. Miss Manners realizes it will be difficult to make friendly overtures to people who have been snubbing you, but she begs you to try. If you steel yourself to say a friendly hello, and to answer questions about what you are doing as if they were no more than idle conversation -- which, indeed, they may well be -- you will signal to people that the social punishment for whatever it is that happened is over.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A great-uncle, retired and known to be monetarily generous, was invited to his great-niece's bridal shower. She came from out of state for the shower, inviting female guests whom she barely knew or not at all.

The gent attended and, shortly thereafter, the wedding was canceled. To date, about five months later, no presents have been returned.

The "couple" took a trip to Vegas after canceling the wedding. What does Miss Manners think of this disgusting set of affairs?

GENTLE READER: That the gent is never going to get his investment back.

However, Miss Manners prefers to think happy thoughts. She is therefore assuming that the trip was an attempt at reconciliation, and that the presents are being kept pending a decision to marry or to part.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: At a local ethnic festival, a popular event where I display my dog, an elderly gentleman always comes up and talks persistently for about an hour. The conversation does not relate to the festival or the dogs, and my efforts to move on to others, who are clearly waiting to speak to me, have not worked.

He is not in the least offensive other than for monopolizing my time, but I find myself becoming more and more tense as the time passes, and I cannot get free of him. Please suggest tactics to help me share my time with all the fairgoers.

GENTLE READER: Can't you just train your dog to tug at his leash and then tear off, taking you along with him, as you flash a smile of helpless apology at the poor old bore?

Failing that, Miss Manners is afraid that you will have to learn to pull yourself away. We all need to allot some time to tolerating inoffensive bores in the hope that others may tolerate us in our less scintillating moments, but there should be a limit.

When you reach yours, turn to the person who is waiting to speak to you, and repeat the gentleman's last remark as if you were drawing a third person into the conversation. Then you may begin a new topic with that person.

"Mr. Hound was just saying that the grocery stores no longer carry his favorite soup. What did you think of the judging this year?" Eventually, you can then excuse yourself from both of them without singling out the gentleman. Or, they can excuse themselves from you.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When my husband and I got married, his parents refused to come to our wedding, never bothering to respond to our invitation. They also managed to convince several of his siblings not to attend. My husband expressed to each of them individually his desire for them to attend our wedding, but to no avail.

Now, 10 years have passed, and his youngest sister, who did not attend our wedding, has invited us to hers. I do not wish to attend, but my husband wishes to.

Since I have not spoken to my in-laws in 10 years, how do I act at the reception? Shall I avoid the receiving line altogether, or pass through it and pretend nothing is out of the ordinary? I personally do not wish to speak to either of them but want to act appropriately.

GENTLE READER: Appropriate to a wedding? Or to a feud?

It is not a good idea to attempt the two simultaneously, although many people make elaborate plans to do so. Miss Manners has yet to hear of anyone's having a social triumph playing the evil spirit at a wedding.

She urges you to pass through the receiving line with a smile and the refrain, "What a lovely wedding." Making it clear that you are attending this event under duress by snubbing the hosts is a bad idea. Should their guests notice, you will have furnished evidence to confirm their judgment of your own marriage. She doubts that this is the effect you had in mind.

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Seldom does Miss Manners have the thrill of producing a shock by means of revealing clothing. All right, never. Alas, the world has grown too jaded to notice if she flashes a bit of ankle while lifting her skirt an inch or 2 above ground level under the coy pretext of avoiding tripping on it.

Failure to produce such an exhilarating reaction must be even harder on young ladies who grew up in the era of sheer blouses and underwear-as-outerwear. The young have such a need to shock, and what have they got to show for it?

Miss Manners is afraid they are going to have to work it out for themselves. A serious issue was raised in regard to shocking clothing -- more serious, even, than the desire to upset one's parents and teachers -- and Miss Manners has to make sure that etiquette was not slandered in the process.

Implications to the contrary, her position in this matter is firmly on the side of violating custom and condoning clothing deemed shocking. The issue at stake was an American military policy requiring all female personnel stationed in Saudi Arabia to wear the abaya -- the long black covering and head scarf that is the local equivalent of the burqa, which was mandated in Afghanistan by the Taliban -- when they left their air base. This was in addition to banning them from driving, confining them to the back seats of cars and insisting that males accompany them.

The dress code was rescinded after an officer challenged the policy as unconstitutional, charging not only that it discriminates against women but that it forces her to practice the custom of a religion that is not her own. Miss Manners graciously concedes constitutional decisions to nine other people, but she doesn't want to hear that etiquette requires people to mimic religious practices that they do not share.

She especially doesn't want to hear "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" recited as if it were etiquette's inviolable rule on behavior in a foreign land. Rome is a wonderful city, but there is an awful lot going on there, including activities Miss Manners is not prepared to recommend that tourists indulge in as a matter of courtesy. Aside from the matter of safety, what was used to defend the policy was the desire not to offend the local population. Yet etiquette has other equally important concerns against which that laudable goal must be weighed when there is a conflict. One of them is the dignity of the individual, and another is national dignity.

Etiquette also routinely deals in the language of symbolism, which it considers to be of high importance. Miss Manners always assumed that the military, which also makes strict use of symbolism, including uniforms, salutes and posture, felt just as strongly.

We all know that the symbolic meaning of clothing is subject to change according to time, place, occasion and other factors. But the symbolism of rendering people invisible is neither ambiguous nor subtle. Nobody has any trouble reading what this means.

In going along with the custom, the American military was acquiescing to the notion that the mere sight of some of its own personnel, no matter how decently dressed by American standards, caused offense. This is an insult to our nation, as well as to the individuals. Even if it were politically expedient in one place, it is politically damaging everywhere to demonstrate a willingness to compromise our principles and our citizens to that extent. Besides, etiquette has never required travelers to take up native dress wherever they go. If visitors to the United States want to wear saris or Savile Row suits instead of blue jeans, it's fine with us.

Respect is shown sartorially by gearing one's dress to the level of formality of the host. An American officer's wardrobe includes uniforms of different degrees of formality for exactly this reason, and regulations specify when comparable civilian clothing may be worn.

Female rulers, including queens and prime ministers, and female diplomats, follow that standard. Their hosts have been clever enough to deal with the shock by declaring them, at least in their own minds, to be honorary men.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: As a 3-year-old (almost), I am just learning about manners -- and sneezing. Mommy says "Bless you!" and Daddy says "Gesundheit!" I like them both.

When I sneeze, Mommy says to cover my mouth with my hand (and a tissue, but I never have one). Daddy says I should sneeze into my elbow, so I won't spread germs with my hands (but sometimes that makes my shirt gross). What's a toddler to do?

GENTLE READER: Oh-oh. Trouble. Miss Manners hates to undermine parental authority, especially when the parents are obviously in control of her Gentle Reader's mail. Yet you have asked her to choose between them and, worse, she finds that both of them are wrong.

The only acceptable target for a sneeze is a handkerchief, or it's pathetic substitute, the tissue. Those who are too young to have one always on hand should store one with a parent and make sure to keep a parent always on hand.

Caught by surprise, the polite person protects others as best he can by turning away, rather than using something they will have to touch or see. So please don't sneeze in your applesauce, either.

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