DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am a single man who inherited, from my parents and grandparents, both a love of entertaining and also a great deal of the trappings needed -- china, crystal, linen, silver -- that other relatives didn’t want. I have everything from fish knives and bouillon cups to strawberry forks and salt spoons. I don’t use them all often, but I enjoy it when I do, and my friends seem to, as well.

Much of my entertaining is less formal: backyard cookouts and such, with all comers welcome. But two or three times a year, I break out the table finery and have a more formal dinner with several courses and a carefully set table. My dining room limits the number invited to eight or, though a bit tight, 10. So I choose guests whom I think will enjoy the nostalgia, and most do.

My question is how to react when people do not respond to an invitation, nor to a gentle nudge (such as an emailed “I wondered if you had received this,” with a second copy of the invitation) -- and arrive anyway. With no response at all, I assume they are not coming, but occasionally they do.

I usually say simply, “What a nice surprise,” but I am then left to shuffle place cards, add settings (often unmatched) and squeeze them in. If the menu includes individually portioned dishes, some may need to do without dessert or whatever.

These are friends of mine, and I do want to entertain them, but I’m afraid I’ll be limiting them to barbecues in the future.

My sister-in-law thinks I should openly set up a card table in the kitchen when this happens, and set it with everyday dishes. Tempting as that is, I’m hoping there’s a better way to react. Do you have any suggestions for invited, but unexpected, guests?

GENTLE READER: Expressing surprise and making reasonable, if obvious, attempts at accommodation are the correct responses. As is taking away china privileges from even one-time offenders.

Miss Manners hopes, however, that you will not otherwise dumb down your charming, seated dinner parties because of a few outlaws. We, the purveyors of fish knives and strawberry forks, are a dying breed. Your ancestry would be proud.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Our friends graciously offered us use of their rustic lakeside cabin, as they no longer can travel there themselves. We had a disappointing time and cut our stay short due to the terrible odor, primitive accommodations and insufficient space. Upon returning home, we sent our friends a thank-you letter and privately vowed to never return.

They have asked us if we had a good time. How does Miss Manners suggest we respond?

GENTLE READER: “You were so kind to let us use the cabin. The area is beautiful and we were so happy to get away ...”

“... from your house, as soon as possible” need not be added.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, gentlereader@missmanners.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Strangers want to make small talk with me while waiting in grocery checkout lines, at bus stops, at the bank, during flights, etc. I do not want to make friends with strangers every time I step outside my house.

When this happens, I can’t bring myself to tell these people, “I’m sorry, but I don’t really want to talk,” because it is considered rude. I attempt to drop gentle hints that I want to be left alone, through body language and short answers to their questions, but most of these people seem to be immune to hints.

So, I am forced to think up innovative ways to avoid talking while being careful not to hurt their feelings. For instance, in order to avoid a chatty lady who wants to become my friend at my regular bus stop, I go to another stop that is slightly out of my way. Once on a nine-hour flight, I was seated next to a talker, and I craned my neck the other way for the entire nine hours in order to avoid catching their eye, which would have led to a long conversation.

First, the obvious question: How can I let these well-meaning folks know, without being rude, that I do not wish to have a conversation?

The second part of my question is more philosophical than practical. Why is it not considered rude to engage me in conversation against my will, but it IS considered rude to tell people you don’t want to talk? Why is their desire to talk to me more valid than my wish not to talk to them? Is there an etiquette rule that says I must suffer instead of them?

GENTLE READER: Our ideas about rules and laws are inevitably shaped by major ones like the Ten Commandments and the Bill of Rights, which are short and pithy. But as a species, we don’t like to read (or take) instructions. Even the big rules are understood to include fine print, like killing in self-defense or not shouting "fire" in a crowded theater.

Yes, it is impolite not to respond when spoken to. But it is also impolite to engage someone in conversation against that person’s inclination.

Miss Manners assures you that you are not being impolite if, after one or two short responses, you find something to do that won’t give you a stiff neck and instead say, “Excuse me, I’m going to return to my book now.” Or “my thoughts.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I’m a new employee at a large company. How do I respond to nosy co-workers asking about where I previously worked?

I want to be polite, but I feel my privacy is being invaded.

GENTLE READER: Expecting your co-workers to stick to business is entirely reasonable, and Miss Manners would understand if you found questions about your personal life to be intrusive.

But questions about previous employment seem a reasonable way of getting to know the people with whom you will be spending a great deal of time. Remember that how much information you divulge when answering such questions is up to you.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, gentlereader@missmanners.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am a freelance journalist who has been living, off and on, in the private room of a hostel off the beaten path. I love the place because it’s gorgeous and usually has excellent vibes, but there are basically 15 of us keeping it in business. It is unfortunately quite close to a war zone.

Anyway, the most recent time I visited, there was a new volunteer at the hostel. After I had checked out and said my goodbyes, I walked through the gate to catch my ride-share to the airport. This volunteer then blocked my way and cornered me. She went on a yelling, screaming rant, saying that I hadn’t left my private room (which I paid $100/night for) clean enough for her liking, and that it’s “not her job” to clean up after me.

I hadn't even been aware she was a volunteer, as I hadn’t seen her work at all before, and certainly didn’t know she was making up my room. I calmly explained to her that I had tried to clean it a bit (to which she responded, in a mocking tone, “Oh, you tried???”), that most guests don’t clean their rooms in hostels at all, and that when I was a hostel volunteer, I changed something like 200 people’s beds in a day -- and that it was, in fact, her job. She continued to argue with me and corner me, attempting to prevent me from accessing my ride.

What was most upsetting was that the owner refused to fire her because it would be “bad for morale.” He fully expected me to come back a week later -- which was originally the plan -- but didn’t even offer an apology for the way I was treated, or any assurances as to consequences for her behavior.

I’m so furious. My loyalty, my money, my friendship over the past year ... it’s meant nothing, I guess. I want to go back, but this experience has been extremely upsetting. What do I do now?

GENTLE READER: One would have thought yelling at the clients was bad for morale, but these days, Miss Manners is not so sure.

There are, no doubt, a number of ways to voice your displeasure to a wider audience online, but that will neither restore the status quo ante, nor get you an apology -- which is presumably the goal.

Either or both of those outcomes may be possible with a private note to the owner, expressing your disappointment and saying that you won’t be returning since you no longer feel welcome or safe.

It is then up to him to make matters right. Once things have calmed down and the volunteer has moved on -- and once he realizes he has lost one of his 15 core customers -- the owner will no doubt see things in a different light.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, gentlereader@missmanners.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)