The countess' motto: "please the palates of the men and you have a successful dinner." That's a real V-8 moment for those women who thought serving castor-oil croquettes and spoiled horsemeat was the secret to steady accumulation of social plaudits.
Not many countesses around these days, and if there were more you know they'd be crass trash socialities. The idea of breeding and comportment would be stale and boring. What's the sense of being royal if you can't act common?