DEAR MISS MANNERS: For the second time this year, I have had a curious thing happen to me: after asking young ladies out on dates -- to which each said yes (apparently with sincerity) and chose an evening -- they then came to me a few days later (but before the date) to say that they had changed their minds and would not go out with me.

In the first case, the young lady changed her mind so that she could go out with a friend of mine, who had asked her out after she'd already agreed to go out with me!

Now, it's said that "a woman's prerogative is to change her mind," yet I feel as if once a woman has agreed to go out and we've chosen an evening and a place, she should at least go through with it, and if she doesn't like me, to decline a second date. But changing her mind seems rude.

Am I wrong about this? And how should I behave toward these ladies? I've been courteous, but after such mind-changing, I certainly don't feel friendly toward them.

GENTLE READER: It is a lady's prerogative to change her mind after agreeing to marry you. It is a lady's prerogative to run back and change her shoes after you have agreed that it is time to go. But it is not a lady's prerogative to accept a social engagement, potentially romantic or not, and change her mind about going.

Besides, we are closer to having equal rights these days (although not so close that a gentleman may change his shoes). Miss Manners asks you to consider how one of these ladies would have reacted had you announced, after setting up the date, that you had found someone with whom you preferred to spend that evening.

She is not, however, endorsing your behaving that way, which would be no more gentlemanly than their behavior was ladylike. The polite reaction to a snub is to refrain from intruding your acquaintanceship on someone who has rejected it.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My unmarried niece gave birth to a little girl last month. Earlier in her pregnancy, her family sent out invitations for a baby shower. Since she lives several states away, I sent a monetary gift and received a lovely thank-you note in return.

I was later quite surprised to learn that the baby was given up for adoption. Is it appropriate to have a shower when the baby is to be given up for adoption? If this was a last-minute decision, should I not have been sent a note of explanation? I do not wish my gift returned, I just feel as if I should have been informed.

GENTLE READER: As a matter of family news, Miss Manners agrees that you should have been informed, but you seem to relate this courtesy to your contribution to the shower. That is a mistake: the baby was born, you gave her a present and you were graciously thanked.

Now -- could we not look too closely into the question of whether there should have been a shower? The decision about adopting might have been made subsequently, as you realize. But even if not, perhaps your niece simply craved this small ritual and wanted to send the child off with things from her family. Miss Manners is not able to begrudge her that.

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What's wrong with plainspokenness? Why don't people -- especially those in positions of authority, responsible to their constituencies -- stop all that fancy obfuscating and say what they really mean?

Apparently, some of these folks have come around to that point of view. During one short midsummer heat wave, Miss Manners noticed the following news reports:

-- On the international scene, the Italian prime minister, speaking as president of the European Union, told the German chancellor that he was well suited to play a Nazi concentration camp leader. Then the Italian undersecretary responsible for tourism said German tourists in general were arrogant blonds, and that a particular German deputy in the European Parliament "probably grew up taking part in noisy burping contests after drinking gigantic amounts of beer and gorging himself on fried potatoes."

-- On the national scene, one member of the House of Representatives' Ways and Means Committee told another one to shut up, to which that congressman replied, "Come on over here and make me. I dare you -- you little fruitcake. I said you are a fruitcake." This followed a staged walkout, after which the chairman called the police, who set an isolated example of restraint by withdrawing.

-- On a local scene, a priest speaking at the funeral Mass for a former town councilman adapted some text from the book of Revelation and told the assembled mourners, "The Lord vomited people like (name of the deceased) out of his mouth to hell."

Miss Manners does not quite see how any of this plainspokenness made the world go around faster, unless you count its sending everyone involved into a tailspin. What followed were recrimination, retaliation and a lawsuit.

She would like to believe that these instances represented merely a seasonal meltdown. Heat does make people irritable, as we know from the number of midsummer national holidays, including our own, that commemorate successfully rash acts of defiance.

But she fears that this summer's less heroic outbursts are only examples of the trickle-up effect of the general degradation of speech. When discourse was conducted at a politer level, it was chiefly rebels and comedians who broke the rules to seem refreshingly frank and funny. However, the novelty of rudeness has long since worn off, and it no longer produces shock or laughter. Lacing argument with insult and commemoration with criticism is simply commonplace.

But dignitaries took a while to catch up, or rather down. Miss Manners considered that they might be inhibited by the notion that a dignitary should be dignified, but told herself not to be silly. There were the practical considerations: When you are in a position of authority, you need the respect, goodwill and cooperation of both your constituents and your colleagues.

Political campaigns began to get rude when the participants figured that they could impress voters with their indignation but not have to deal with their targets if they won. And, although there is considerable posturing of the kind by those in office, a cooperative form of government, nationally or internationally, requires that they not antagonize peers whose votes they may need.

But if anyone concluded that it was only safe to speak ill of the dead -- no, it isn't. Their survivors are suing.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: At a formal afternoon tea, does the server stand to the right or the left of the person he is serving? The teacup was on the right of me, but, being left-handed, I moved the teacup to the left.

GENTLE READER: Well, then, it would have been kind of messy if the server had continued to pour from the right, wouldn't it?

At private teas, the guest hands the teacup to the hostess, who is seated, so Miss Manners presumes you are speaking of service in a tearoom. In a commercial establishment, it would be considerate, not to mention safer, to move the cup to the right, where the server expects to find it, when receiving a refill.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: When referring to the relationship between two men who have undergone a marriage or commitment ceremony, is it most proper to call them "husbands," "spouses" or "partners"?

It seems as if the word "partner" is popular in referring to people who have a relationship, but have not necessarily formalized it with a ceremony. The greater level of commitment signified by the service seems to necessitate the use of a different term, much as after a traditional marriage ceremony those who were formerly "boyfriend/girlfriend" or "fiances" become "husband/wife."

GENTLE READER: Oh, no, here we go again. Even aside from the fact that everybody keeps referring to the affianced as "fiances," the terminology of couple-hood has been driving Miss Manners crazy for years.

It is true that we seem finally to have settled on "partner" to describe the parties to an unmarried living arrangement, but not without years and years of trying out icky alternatives such as "significant other" and POSSLQ (the government's idea of a catchy way of saying People of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters). "Partner" is not a great choice, as one might have law partners, business partners and dance partners with whom one wouldn't dream of going home, but at least it is pronounceable.

So use "spouse," "husband" or "wife" for both -- but no new words, please.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I make a trip to visit my grandparents once or twice a year, and this year my grandmother had gone through heart surgery. She was well upon the way to recovery in rehab when I arrived.

I was greeted at the house by Berna, my grandparents' housekeeper and an old family friend. It being a dreadfully hot summer, Berna told me that my grandmother had said I was to stay in her (my grandmother's) air-conditioned bedroom while she was away.

Miss Manners, I couldn't accept that offer. It seemed innately disrespectful for me to sleep in my hostess's bed, and I would feel ashamed and somewhat embarrassed to do so. Berna was persistent, and I managed to refuse through a combination of timeworn banter and outright pleading that I be allowed to stay in one of the guestrooms. I also refused Berna's offer to move the fan from her own room to mine.

Was I in the wrong to refuse the hospitality offered? As it turns out, the empty guestroom in which I usually stay already had a fan, so I spent my nights comfortably regardless. Please, what was the proper way to deal with the situation? Was there anything else I could have done?

GENTLE READER: Although Miss Manners is as touched by your reverential reticence as she is sure your grandmother and her housekeeper were, there is something else you could have done: You could have done what you were told.

Your idea was to avoid seeming to supplant your grandmother while she is still alive. Miss Manners' idea goes slightly beyond that to indicate that she is not only alive, but in charge of making arrangements in her own home.

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