DEAR MISS MANNERS: After having lunch with a so-called friend, she proceeded to tell me how negative I was and how it drags her down. I think it was because she didn't like my opinion about the subjects we discussed.

If I am not free to express my opinion, I no longer feel comfortable with her. These were not personal opinions, but were about restaurants, cruises and our local hospital, which I was just in for four days.

Sorry, I can't be a Pollyanna and say everything is great when it is not.

Should I break ties with this person? Before she spoke, she said I would not like what she had to say, and mentioned that another so-called friend felt the same.

I want to retort, as I was totally dumbfounded and speechless. I agreed to being opinionated, but "negative" is her word.

GENTLE READER: Didn't she have anything positive to say about you? You might plead that it drags you down to hear such a negative opinion of yourself.

Miss Manners cannot promise that this will stop the lady short and make her blurt out, "I see what you mean" -- after which you can share a friendly laugh, and you can offer, "How about if I wait until you finish eating before I criticize the restaurant?"

It is unfortunately more likely to lead to more negativeness -- the charge that you cannot accept constructive criticism. But at least that will warn you that your so-called friend's rule is that it is fine to condemn your friends as long as you refrain from criticizing the hospital.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I'm caught in a pickle. About a week after I graduated high school, I received a graduation card and a little cash from some relatives my family and I see fairly often (my great-aunt and great-uncle). Unfortunately, I was slow in sending a thank-you card and wasn't able to mail it to them until weeks later.

A week ago, I received another graduation card from these same relatives, including more cash than in the previous card and a note saying, "Sorry we forgot to send you a card earlier."

I'm not sure how I should handle this situation. Should I send the card and money back, explaining that this was a mistake? This great-aunt and great-uncle are elderly, and while they are not struggling financially, they are very careful with their money.

GENTLE READER: Your pickle landed splat on the place where etiquette meets ethics.

An etiquette case could be made that it is kinder not to draw the attention of your relatives to their memory lapse. Not so incidentally, this would allow you to pocket this windfall.

However, Miss Manners is not going to make that case. Sorry, but collecting twice from these people, whether or not they can easily afford it, is just wrong.

But let us not abandon the etiquette aspect. You can soften the realization of their mistake by focusing on your own. The letter accompanying your return of the money (the new amount, not the original, smaller one) should begin, "I was so tardy in thanking you for your generous present that you tactfully assumed that I hadn't received it. But ..."

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Universal Uclick, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: How long after a tragedy, such as the shootings in Aurora, Colo., is it appropriate to begin a discussion on the root causes and preventive actions to be taken?

Just as happened in Tucson, time cools the passions until the public forgets about it. This is more important than holding your pinkie out when drinking tea.

GENTLE READER: It seems to Miss Manners that such discussions always begin immediately, often before it is known exactly what happened or who did it. Sense, as well as taste, would suggest that the reaction of shock and sympathy should not be augmented with analyses and cures until the basic facts are established.

But surely what concerns you is that after everyone has voiced already-fixed opinions about gun control and mental health, and agreed that the event is "a wake-up call," the public dozes off until the next alarm.

Not everybody has forgotten. Not the bereaved, no matter how often they are urged to "move beyond" it. And not those who are professionally or personally dedicated to studying human behavior in the hope of anticipating, if not restraining, its worst manifestations.

What you notice is that a particularly horrific tragedy becomes less the topic of general talk as smaller, yet fresher examples of problematic behavior appear. Then it is most often cited, as you did the Tucson shootings, to show that nothing has changed. The catastrophe to end all catastrophes turns out to have been no more that than was World War I, as had been predicted, "the war to end all wars."

Yet we keep hoping, and we keep studying behavior and trying to keep it within safe bounds.

Etiquette is a major force in this, you will be amazed to hear. An astonishing number of violent acts develop from transgressions of etiquette. Just the other day, Miss Manners read of a murder that was the eventual result after two strangers traded insults because one of them had broken into a line at the grocery store. Violence on the road not uncommonly follows one car cutting off another. And a typical explanation in gang warfare attempts to justify crime as a legitimate response to being "disrespected."

Even that perennially easy target, the pinkie in the air, has provocative implications having to do with international commerce and class strife.

The gesture dates from the 17th century, when tea began to be imported to England from China. It was so expensive that those who could afford it kept it locked up in so-called tea caddies. They drank it from Chinese teacups, which do not have handles but are held in the fingers. Because the thin cups transmitted heat from the tea, it was sensible to put as few fingers on them as necessary -- hence the escaping little finger, and sometimes the ring and middle fingers as well.

This habit became a symbol of wealth, when few people could afford tea, let alone imported cups. It quickly progressed, along a path you will recognize, to becoming a symbol of pretentiousness. At that point, the pinkie in the air -- no longer necessary because the West had developed teacups with handles -- became bad manners.

Miss Manners is amazed that it is still cited, now that tea is one of the cheapest possible drinks available. She would be surprised if you had ever actually seen this gesture in real life.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: How long should a grieving widow remain chaste?

GENTLE READER: That is not for Miss Manners to say. However, she does believe that a year is a proper time for a widow to be discreet.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Universal Uclick, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I are attending a 50th birthday party for his brother-in-law. My husband wants to bring his guitar along, although he has not been asked to do so. It seems very presumptuous to me, and selfish. Help!

GENTLE READER: It might help if you offered your husband a little musical treat: Gracie Fields singing "I Took Me Harp to a Party (but Nobody Asked Me to Play)."

Miss Manners finds herself especially moved by the lines, "I felt so ashamed of not striking a note/That I tried to hide the thing under me coat."

If that doesn't discourage him, you might persuade your husband to tell his sister or brother-in-law what he plans. For all you know, they will be delighted. At the very least, they will be warned.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I attended a dinner party at which the tablecloth was a unique, delicate and lovely textile that the hostess had picked up on her travels. Before sitting down, she explained that the textile was of special importance to her and was irreplaceable, and asked us not to spill any food or drink on it.

We all said we would be careful. Unfortunately, my glass of wine did get spilled on the textile. It was a complete accident -- the glass tipped over when the table was jarred. I apologized profusely and helped with cleanup.

The hostess was very upset. She later emailed me asking me to cover the cost of specialty cleaning for her textile and, if the cleaning was not successful, to reimburse her for the textile itself. I apologized again for the spill and told her I understood how upset she must be, but that I was not able to pay for the spill.

Well, today I got a bill from her for the cleaning service, along with a note reiterating how special this textile is to her, saying she'd asked us not to spill, and explaining that when a guest damages a host's property, they have a responsibility to pay.

I'm not sure how to respond. I kind of see her point, but it's not like I spilled on her upholstery or drunkenly crashed into a priceless family vase. I don't know whether to ignore it, say another version of what I've already said (I'm sorry about the spill, but I can't pay for this), or be more explicit (I'm sorry about the spill, but this was the wrong choice of tablecloth and I don't think I'm obligated to pay). I have a feeling she won't let this go, regardless of how I respond. Or should I just pay up?

GENTLE READER: With a total lack of sympathy for the hostess, Miss Manners nevertheless advises you to pay up. It's just too bad that all the guests didn't respond to that humiliating warning by jumping away from the table and declaring themselves unworthy to dine on anything so valuable.

Although the hostess's revealing that she valued the cloth over the guests and her demanding payment are both gross travesties of hospitality, it is true that a guest should offer to replace or fix what he has damaged, even though it was an accident. In turn, a host should refuse, knowing that absorbing accidents is part of the cost of entertaining.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Universal Uclick, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)