Posh people have luncheons, they do not have lunch (and I wouldn’t be able to tell you what’s the difference, I’m not posh enough to know)
Also posh people have their newspapers ironed.
Harbingers of doom
Mr. Bates cannot catch a break. I don’t know what the man did in previous life but it must have been some bad shit.
There are people who do not understand the concept of weekend. Bless.
Telephones are instruments of torture.
It is perfectly acceptable to conduct illicit affairs with dashing Turkish diplomats. That is as long as none finds out about it.
If the dashing Turkish diplomat decides to kick the bucket (being the inconsiderate foreigner and all, no Englishman would dream of dying in someone else’s home) just transfer him back to his room. None will be much the wiser (and aren’t you lucky to be posh? You can get the maids to do it with you)
If by any chance the word gets about you had an affair with a dashing Turkish diplomat, fret not, there is a solution – one can always go to Italy because there you can always find an Italian who is not too picky.
Posh ladies aren’t allowed to have opinions. Not until they are married anyway. Then their husband tells them what their opinions are.
If you are a woman, it is your right to be as contrary as you like.