Long ago, ladies who found themselves in a delicate condition were supposed to refer to it, sartorially as well as conversationally, only with the greatest delicacy. And if young people today can't even imagine what is meant by "a delicate condition" -- well, that was the idea.

Naturally, people today regard this as an insult to motherhood, womanhood and everyone else in the hood. Childbirth itself being natural, why shouldn't it be out in the open? After all, the event that led up to it pretty much is.

Miss Manners can think of a reason that birth parties for friends are not in the best of taste: They interfere with the decorum that requires ladies who are appearing in company to keep their ankles demurely crossed. She also retains the prudery of believing that expectant mothers, no matter how justifiably proud of their expectations, should be discouraged from posing nude for general distribution.

However, she finds herself surprisingly charmed by the new maternity fashions that are more up front, so to speak, than in previous eras. Formerly, the declared purpose of such wardrobes was to hide the condition. Unfortunately, the tactic employed was to cover the lady in question with what appeared to be great rolls of wallpaper left over from decorating the nursery. This was a failure, both aesthetically and as camouflage.

Dresses, sweaters and blouses that frankly follow the emergent shape but are otherwise unexceptionable are surely an improvement. (That qualifier should be noted, however. The bellybutton is mistaken if it thinks itself a treat for all eyes. Displaying the place where it has disappeared along a stretched belly is not an improvement.)

Frank discussions are another matter. The reticence by parents-to-be in talking about pregnancy has disappeared as if it were unbecoming. But this had a purpose beyond protecting innocent children from speculating about where babies come from.

It helped protect innocent mothers from adults who not only speculate about where these particular babies have come from but ask the mother, as well as offering her scary warnings, making horrid remarks and poking and patting the work in progress.

There is no barrier left -- certainly not taste -- to inhibit the curious from annoying pregnant ladies now that the social silence on this subject is gone. The most these only-too-obvious targets can hope to do is to freeze out their tormentors by refusing to make the subject of pregnancy open to discussion.

Not announcing it with startling immediacy to anyone except one's intimates is a start. Not only can this cut a good three months off the time of public attack, but it saves one from making emotionally difficult explanations if anything goes wrong.

Once the pregnancy is observable, it means curbing one's natural exuberance and limiting the conversation to saying how happy one is and how fine one feels. (The version of the latter suitable for use by those being sick all over the place is, "Oh, I'm a little uncomfortable, but basically I'm fine, thanks.")

Never mind that the answer "We're so happy" does not exactly address the question, "Was this intentional?" and that "I'm fine, thanks" is an odd answer to "How come you're so huge?" It is time to learn that one does not have to explain everything -- prenatal practice for saying, "Because I say so, that's why."

Another phrase that needs practice is the one that fits unwanted touching: a firm "Now, stop that, please!"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am getting married to a wonderful woman in a romantic courtyard setting at my co-op apartment. She feels my suggestion to have the wedding time in the announcement complement the venue by showing the time as either "At Moonrise" or "At Sunset" is confusing and therefore breaches etiquette.

I feel it would be adding a special flair that guests would appreciate and think debonair. Surely one would immediately upon receipt think to go online or reference their handy Farmers Almanac or call one of us for clarification, any of which would clear any possible confusion.

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners congratulates you on taking a sensible bride. Every romantic should have someone by his side saying, "What a charming idea. It won't work, of course, but it's such a charming idea."

This is especially necessary here because others would not be charmed by being fed whimsy instead of the basic information they would need to attend. You don't want this lovely lady to have to face an empty courtyard and say, "They're all so prosaic, darling; they just don't appreciate someone as debonair as you."

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: All right, I admit it -- the world has changed. I understand that almost nobody sits down and writes out traditional, formal invitations to parties, dinners, dances and the like -- the kind of invitation that most people associate with weddings and embassy balls, but written out by hand rather than engraved or printed.

Having said that, my wife and I are hosting a dinner, and we would like to send formal invitations to our friends. Please tell me how I might word such an invitation to our home.

Should I use titles even though these are good friends? (Mr. and Mrs. George Washington request the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. John Adams' company for dinner....) Or would our full names suffice? (George and Martha Washington request the pleasure of John and Abigail Adams' company for dinner....)

May we say "for dinner" and let everyone infer that they'll get cocktails and chat, too? Or should we say "for cocktails and dinner" so that they don't pack their own bottle of wine?

GENTLE READER: Even though Miss Manners considers the formal dinner party just about the finest recreational activity we have (not counting the afternoon nap, with which it combines perfectly), you worry her.

Are you, in fact, giving a formal dinner? If so, are you inviting people you assume would enjoy this, whether because of their experience or their openness to new experience? If not, it would be pretentious and silly to attempt it.

The beauty of this form is that it is a set piece, its formal details --invitations, timing, clothes, food, service -- intended as a flattering frame for the participants. You don't mess with those details to make it seem -- well, less formal. Honorifics are always used, and the request is for the guests' company "at dinner" (not "for" dinner; the roast is for dinner, as old-fashioned wags were wont to say). "Dinner" is understood to include drinks, talk, and, for that matter, bathroom privileges, so you need not spell these out.

If you are simply giving a decorous dinner party, not one of high formality, a less formal invitation, but no less charming, should be issued. This is written in the first person: "We would be delighted if you could come to dinner..." with your names, minus honorifics, at the bottom.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it appropriate for a party to walk out of a restaurant without paying when the service has been terrible and the guests have had to wait for their entrees for over 90 minutes?

There could not have been more than 20 people in the restaurant! Upon leaving, we looked for the hostess or a cashier, but to no avail.

GENTLE READER: Did you miss hearing the fire alarm?

As you know how long the food took, Miss Manners assumes that you stayed until it arrived and consumed it. In that case, you owe the restaurant the cost of the food. An optional extra would be the reason that the experience cost them your good will.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I wrote a novel several years ago and submitted it to many agents and publishers, but it was never accepted for publication. When I reread my work now, I'm embarrassed at its poor quality and amazed that I ever considered it to be good enough to be published. It's the only piece I've written, and I've since stopped writing altogether.

When I meet up with friends that I haven't seen in a long while, they often inquire whether my work was published and whether they can read it. I am embarrassed to show them the manuscript, but they are offended if I refuse. Is there any polite way of refusing their requests without admitting to how badly written it is?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners suspects your friends of having ulterior motives. In her experience, everyone in the world is writing a novel, even if it never quite gets to the paperwork stage, and nothing except love and self-sacrifice can get anyone to read someone else's novel in manuscript form, no matter how fervently they beg.

She therefore concludes that your friends are trying to lure you into their debt so they can force you to read their own manuscripts. If you were to answer the question simply by asking another one -- "Have you ever thought of writing a novel?" -- the conversation would probably never get back to yours. Or you could agree to house each other's manuscripts for a decent amount of time before returning them with vague praise.

Of course you can also just say, "It's not ready to be read yet, and I'm not sure it ever will be." But Miss Manners is afraid that would defeat your purpose, as it would make you sound like a professional writer who hasn't managed to get down to work.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I've been dating a successful man for a few months. The problem? When we go out to dinner or lunch, he orders only one plate and tells the waiter this is enough for now, but we may want to order more food. Which means he expects me to "share" his plate.

The first time, I wasn't really too hungry, so I was all right with it, but into the fourth dinner date I noticed that this is the way he is. He will also tell me to order a drink, and I notice he enjoys "sharing" this, too.

I can afford my own lunch, dinner or drinks, so I'm not going and expecting him to pay, but what do I say? And do I have the right to feel funny about this?

P.S. He also has the habit of handing me a soda can or coffee cup that has only the very end left and telling me to "go ahead and finish it." Yuck!

GENTLE READER: How many more half-dinner dates is it going to take to convince you that this courtship is going nowhere?

It is not even so much the question of whether you can stomach eating his leftovers and letting him nibble away at yours as it is whether you can stomach him. If that "Yuck!" answers the question in Miss Manners' mind, surely it should give you a hint.

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