He is too young. I heard you promising him a carnation for to-morrow. You mustn't think me rude, but, please, don't give him one."
Lord Reggie looked rather surprised.
"I am afraid he will be disappointed," he said.
"I cannot help that. And he will have forgotten it in five minutes. Children are as volatile as—as"
"As lovers," said Madame Valtesi, who was smoking a cigarette in a chair by the window. "And forget as soon."
"Every one forgets," Esmé Amarinth said, with a gracious smile that illuminated his large features with slow completeness. "It is only when we have learned to love forgetfulness that we have learned the art of living. I wish people would forget me; but somehow they never do. Long after I have completely forgotten them they remember me. Then I have to pretend that I remember them, and that is so fatiguing."
"Esmé," said Mrs. Windsor, "do sing us your song of the passer-by. That is all about remembering and forgetting, and all that sort of thing. So sweet. I remember it made me cry when I heard it—or was it laugh? Which did you mean it to do?"
"I did not mean it to do anything. The
