No. 3 · Friday, April 14, 1911

A Corner Turned on West 54th Street

A card was left on Tuesday at a house on West 54th Street. We have thought of very little else since.

The facts are few, and we give them in order. The card was engraved, not printed. It was left at the door in person, by the gentleman himself, and not sent round by a footman. The corner was turned down to say so. The name on it belongs to the heir to the Ainsley concern, who is in mourning and pays no calls.

A gentleman in mourning who leaves no other card in New York has left one at the Sidneys'. Society has never been handed a plainer sentence.

The question is for whom it was meant. It was addressed, as it must be, to Mrs. and the Misses Sidney. A gentleman's card is left for the lady of the house and her daughters together. It cannot be left for a younger daughter alone. It can only be left at the house where she lives.

Society has decided the card was meant for the elder Miss S. Society is usually right about these things.

We are not certain that Society is right about this one.

The elder Miss S. is understood to have been at home on Tuesday afternoon, and to have been very gracious about it. The younger Miss S. is understood to have been in the morning room, writing a letter. Nobody knows to whom.

The card did not stay long on the hall table. By evening it was gone from the salver. We do not know where it went. We would very much like to.

On Thursday the heir’s carriage was seen on the Mall with both Misses S. and their cousin inside it. The elder Miss S. was set down at the Dashwoods’, where a great many people happened to be at the window. The carriage went on. We are told the cousin was asleep. We do not say what that means.

Easter is on Sunday, and the bonnets this year are very large. Two from West 54th Street went out on Monday to be retrimmed. We shall know them anywhere on the Avenue, and so, we fear, will every other lady present.

We hear that the Ainsley box at the Metropolitan is to be occupied tomorrow night after all, and by more people than the Ainsleys. We shall be in the house.

A Caller

For the modern reader

Calling card etiquette and the turned-down corner

In 1911, nobody in Society simply dropped by. You left your card. A gentleman’s card was engraved on plain white board. Printed cards were cheaper, and a sharp eye could tell the difference across a hall. The servant who answered the door took the card in on a small silver tray, the salver, and it waited in the front hall to be read.

A card left in person, not sent round with a servant, had a corner turned down to say so. Etiquette books gave each corner its own meaning: one for a visit, one for congratulations, one for condolence, one for leave-taking before a long journey. By 1911 the full code was going out of fashion, and even its defenders disagreed about which corner meant what. A turned corner on a card left by the man himself still meant one thing to everyone: he came to the door.

A gentleman did not leave a card for an unmarried daughter on her own. His card went to the lady of the house, and her daughters were included in it. Who left a card, at which house, and how often, was read as closely as any letter.

In The Devil’s Asking Price, one engraved card arrives at the Sidney house, addressed to Mrs. and the Misses Sidney. What happens to it matters for the rest of the series.

By Astoria Bane, writing as A Caller · 12 November 2026 · 3 min read