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"Dorian," said Lord Henry at last, as the chaud-froid was being

handed round, "what is the matter with you to-night? You are

quite out of sorts."

"I believe he is in love," cried Lady Narborough, "and that he is

afraid to tell me for fear I should be jealous. He is quite

right. I certainly should."

"Dear Lady Narborough," murmured Dorian, smiling, "I have not

been in love for a whole week-not, in fact, since Madame de

Ferrol left town."

"How you men can fall in love with that woman!" exclaimed the old

lady. "I really cannot understand it."

"It is simply because she remembers you when you were a little

girl, Lady Narborough," said Lord Henry. "She is the one link

between us and your short frocks."

"She does not remember my short frocks at all, Lord Henry. But I

remember her very well at Vienna thirty years ago, and how

decolletee she was then."