DEAR MISS MANNERS: My sister has been dating a guy for about four months, and I just found out she is eight weeks pregnant. She is 32 years old, which should mean she is an adult and can make her own decisions, but they instantly jumped into a serious relationship.

He has a 4-year-old son who she met less than a month after they began dating, and now the boyfriend and his son stay with her almost all of the time. My parents basically support her -- they make her car payment and pay her school loans.

So I think this is not the best thing to happen. When I express my concern about anything, she becomes angry and defensive right away. So how do I talk to her about this?

GENTLE READER: Just what is the wise counsel that you are offering your sister and she is perversely rejecting?

That people who are expecting a baby have no business entering a serious relationship? That allowing the prospective father to stay at your sister's house will ruin her reputation? That instead of helping her, your parents should be locking her in her room so she doesn't get into trouble?

Naive Miss Manners would have thought that a relationship that produced a pregnancy was already a wee bit serious. But if not, it strikes her as a good time to begin. And apparently they have. Please don't try to put a damper on this.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have my grandmother's silver plate coffee and tea service. There are three pots; one has a warming stand. Besides the sugar bowl, there is another bowl someone told me was the "slop bowl." Please tell me how one makes tea with a set such as this?

GENTLE READER: Charmingly, as you are now equipped to do. (Yes, yes, Miss Manners acknowledges that you might manage to be charming when offering a mug and a tea bag, but that is not a charming way of serving tea.)

The large pot with the warming stand is for hot water, the middle-sized one is for tea leaves in a lesser amount of hot water (both to be rinsed with hot water before filling), and the small pitcher is for milk. The slops (sic) bowl is necessary because fresh tea and the soothing conviviality that it produces keep people coming back for more.

For the first cup, you use the extra-hot water to adjust the strength of the tea to the tea drinker's taste, bearing in mind that the longer the leaves steep, the stronger the teapot's contents will be.

Such are the delights of afternoon tea that tea itself is often neglected, and those who come back for seconds will present you with not-quite-empty cups, at the bottom of which will be a tiny, cold, messy puddle. It may contain a few drenched tea leaves (even though, of course, you strained the tea when you poured that first cup).

That's what goes into the slops bowl before you pour fresh hot tea into the cup: slops.

(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: Last week my family and I attended a concert at an outdoor venue -- the kind of place where you dress casually and set up your beach chairs or blankets on a grassy area in front of the stage.

Sitting near us were three young adults on a blanket. They talked through the entire concert, and I could hear their conversation over the music.

I said nothing at first, thinking they would eventually quiet down and listen to the band play. But after about 10 songs, I couldn't take it anymore. I approached the young lady who was the loudest of the group, knelt down so I was face-to-face with her, and said, "I can hear you over the music. Please keep your voice down."

She said yes, I thanked her and returned to my seat. I did not yell or use foul language, nor did I use a nasty tone, though my voice was firm.

At the end of the concert, the young lady came to me and apologized profusely for her behavior. Specifically she said, "While your style of communication could use some improvement, I am truly sorry we ruined your concert experience." This comment was followed by more apologies from her.

I managed to choke out something resembling "apology accepted, no more worries, safe ride home, blah, blah, blah," but in truth I was startled by her comment about my communication style.

Yes, this was a casual outdoor event. We weren't in a concert hall. Some talking and movement were allowed, even acceptable. But it was still a concert. People paid good money to hear a favorite band perform.

What did she expect me to do? I did not yell at her. I said "please" and "thank you." And given that I had to speak over a rock band's performance, I could hardly whisper my request to her.

GENTLE READER: Galling as it may be, requests such as these are properly made in an apologetic manner: "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that we can hear you over the music." The idea is supposed to be that you know that the rudeness was unintentional and are assuming that the offender would wish to know its effect.

Miss Manners did not quite pick up that face-saving approach from your report. She gathers that the young lady was trying to supply that herself, by returning the criticism.

This was not quite nice, but still, she did quiet down and she did apologize. Let's call that problem solved.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: As a child and young man, I was advised by my late mother that a gentleman should always carry a handkerchief, which I continue to do to this day, in my 60s. A good friend of mine, a distinguished young man in the community, scoffs at such a notion and says no one does that anymore.

I fear he might be right. I often see male dining companions blowing their noses on restaurant napkins and leaving them for restaurant staff to attend. Having waited on tables in my youth, I find this disgusting.

Perhaps you have some kind advice about the use or non-use of handkerchiefs in modern times.

GENTLE READER: Carry them, use them, and leave the napkins alone. Presumably, your young adviser was referring to the use of paper tissues, and not cloth napkins, in place of handkerchiefs. Still, he is less of an authority on modern etiquette than your late mother remains.

(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: Is it considered rude to dress in weather-appropriate shorts and T-shirts if doing so reveals scars that are obviously self-inflicted?

My hard times are long behind me, and the scars are all faded and white, although they'll always be pretty obvious. For many summers, I've tolerated the discomfort of wearing long pants and sleeves through the heat waves, and I'm tired of (falsely) insisting to well-meaning people that, no, I'm not too hot in these clothes.

I'm aware that if I wear clothing that makes the scars visible, I'll get even more questions and looks from (less well-meaning) people. I don't want to burden anyone with troubles from my past, but I'm tired of roasting through summers.

Would it be improper of me to wear clothing that exposes my arms or legs on a hot day? What is a polite way to deal with stares and questions, whether about scars or excessive clothing in high temperatures?

GENTLE READER: As you are already spending summers dodging annoying questions, you should at least make yourself comfortable.

Many factors determine proper dress: the season, the weather, the occasion; national, regional and social customs; the prevailing symbolism, and so on. However, Miss Manners is outraged at demands that disfigurement or heavy weight or signs of age should prevent people from wearing bathing suits or other revealing but respectable clothing in the proper context.

Of course it is not rude of you to wear short-sleeved shirts and shorts under informal circumstances. It is rude of others to stare and ask questions.

But you know they will. You need reply nothing more than, "You're kind to worry about me, but I'm fine. These are very old scars."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I had encountered some financial difficulties that we solved by selling our primary home, which had a mortgage, and moving to our vacation home, which does not.

The children and I reside full time in this home now, and my husband works in our old town during the week, which is three hours away. Weekends are the only time we have as a family.

At least twice a month, more in the summer, we are invited by friends -- his, mine or both -- to attend parties or events in our old town. As much as I love my family and friends, the six-hour round-trip drive, the tank of gas and disruption to our time together make these invitations irritating to have to decline.

"Oh, you can come this one time," seems to be the mantra. This is still going on after two years. Should I say something, or simply pray people get the hint?

GENTLE READER: Is it really that annoying to know that your friends still miss you and want to see you?

Apparently it is. Otherwise, Miss Manners would think you might invite them to visit you, or go into town with your husband one day and meet them for dinner. You needn't sacrifice your weekends to keep from sacrificing those friendships.

(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.)