DEAR MISS MANNERS: A genteel, proper tea at a traditional hotel requires one to sit demurely at a table too diminutive for any other posture, while awaiting the arrival of the scones, cream and jam. These are followed by the finger sandwiches, then by miniature pastries, whilst sipping from cups of tea before, during and after each course. (Only the simper is missing, but one is generally too busy to bother.)

While sharing such an interlude with a couple of my female friends, we each broke our scones with our fingers. Then, holding a morsel of scone, we applied and spread gobs of cream and jam with spoons and knives, respectively, then lifted them to our lips and enjoyed. The finger sandwiches were also picked up, lifted to the lips and eaten.

Now the tricky part: the miniature pastries, each consumable in two dainty bites or three delicate nibbles. My friends made their choices, placed pastries on plates and proceeded to dissect cream-filled puff pastries with fork and knife, conveying the morsels to the lips with the fork.

Alone among the three of us, I lifted pastry to lips using my fingers and held each successively smaller remainder until all was consumed. (I promise you I did not lick my fingers clean when finished. Mostly.)

While this is not a major etiquette question, it’s been eating at me for some time. Did I make a faux pas? Or was I correct?

GENTLE READER: Passably. The attempt at historical food porn, less so. But entertaining, nevertheless.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it rude to ask someone alone with a laptop at a coffeeshop to share the table?

GENTLE READER: On the contrary: It seems like pretty good assurance that neither of you will have to make small talk.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have embraced a hobby that is seeing a resurgence amongst young people: knitting. But I’m concerned it may be impolite to knit in the presence of others.

For instance, is knitting while riding on a train with a companion acceptable? How about while visiting intimates’ homes, while they are engaged in their own activities -- such as cooking, but still chatting?

How about knitting in a public place, such as a coffeeshop? When an acquaintance approaches, may I resume knitting after a warm greeting?

Although knitting is a rather mindless activity, allowing talking but interrupting eye contact, I am concerned others may be jealous that I have a fun activity if they do not.

GENTLE READER: Is this not why knitting circles were invented?

Trains, coffeeshops and the homes of intimates who are similarly occupied seem to Miss Manners acceptable situations in which to break out the yarn. Not so much for formal settings like weddings, funerals or coronations.

(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: What is the polite way to eat large sushi rolls? Sometimes they’re too big to comfortably eat whole without gagging!

GENTLE READER: Dissect them.

Miss Manners does not usually condone deconstructing food in public, but these are desperate times. Use your chopsticks to pull out the insides and eat them separately. Then either squish the remaining rice and seaweed together and eat it in two bites or use the side of the chopstick to cut it in half.

Perhaps the sight of their beautiful creations being desecrated will inspire the chefs to make more manageable bites. Or at least have them wonder why everyone is suddenly ordering them as takeout instead.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My friend and I were discussing dating reciprocity, and we both agree that even with “old-fashioned” concepts, things must be reciprocated. The gentleman will pay for dinner the first time, but then the lady must reciprocate the next time.

However, if the lady does not have an income sufficient to fund dinner for two at a restaurant, what should she do? If the relationship is new and she does not yet wish to entertain her gentleman friend in her home (unchaperoned), what are some low-cost options that she might offer as a next date?

I thought of a summer picnic, but are there other options that might take place in the colder months?

GENTLE READER: Coffee? Tea? Miss Manners will resist adding “Me?” -- since presumably that is the reason for not hosting in her home (unchaperoned) in the first place.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Six weeks ago, a friend and I scheduled a meetup. We have not seen each other in person for more than a year. One day before our scheduled appointment, I texted her to ask where she would like to get together.

This was her response: “Oh, I did not put this in my calendar and we are leaving in a couple days to go overseas. Let’s reconnect in the fall. Apologies.”

Would it be rude of me not to respond to this text? Honestly, given that she did not even put our appointment in her calendar and did not reach out to reschedule or cancel when she made other plans, I don’t want to signal that I am OK with how lightly she treated our plan to get together.

At the same time, I don’t want to send a snippy response -- that’s not who I am. Can I let my silence speak for itself?

GENTLE READER: Friends should generally be allowed one scheduling mishap every few years. It is when it happens every single time that we start reconsidering the friendship.

So while Miss Manners understands your annoyance, she suggests an alternative to silence that is still not snippy: “Oh, I am so disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing you, and had it in my calendar. But yes, let’s please get together once you are back.”

The advantage is that it will make her feel just a little bit bad -- and therefore less likely to forget about you again come fall.

(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: My husband and I are disagreeing on what a proper RSVP is. I sent out digital invitations for my son’s birthday party and requested people RSVP to me. Many of his family members “liked” the digital invitation, but did not specifically respond as to whether or not they were attending.

I told my husband that no one from his family had responded, but he thinks the fact that they “liked” the invitation is their RSVP. I don’t agree with this, especially since there are families being invited with children who do not have their own phones to “like” the invitation.

Even if this counts as their response, how do I know whether to expect one person or their entire five-person family?

GENTLE READER: When they first appeared, Miss Manners was assured that electronic invitations would be such an improvement over the old handwritten form, because everyone would respond quickly and it would save everyone all the time and tediousness of -- something. She had stopped listening by then.

Instead, the same people who had responded to handwritten invitations responded to electronic ones -- and the same people who failed to respond to one also failed to respond to the other. And the people who did respond could still be endlessly nagged, because somehow the computer didn't record their response, and everyone could be dunned for presents or photos or just cash.

So you can imagine her reaction at learning that there is now a way to respond that is unintelligible to the hostess.

Does this thing have a Very Much Dislike button?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I participate in an organization with quite a few members. Apparently, I resemble one of the leaders of the organization. I am frequently mistaken for this person, although I don’t think we really look alike.

Usually, people apologize when they address me by the other person’s name, but occasionally people seem put out, as if I were trying to trick them or act as an impersonator.

What is the polite way to tell people I am not the other person without raising their hackles? Sometimes I almost feel like they expect me to apologize!

GENTLE READER: Your final exclamation suggests that you doubt your own assessment that anyone could be so irrational as to blame you for their mistake.

But Miss Manners assures you it is actually a common -- which is not to say acceptable -- reaction in such situations.

The correct way to react to being mistaken for someone else will depend on the other person's behavior. It is an embarrassing situation for them, so if they make a genuine apology, help them out by accepting the apology quickly and changing the subject.

With anyone rude enough to display resentment, you may smile when you deny being the other person. This is not rude; you are merely declining to help them out of the hole they have dug -- and apparently wish to continue excavating.

(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.)