"She is clear-sighted and honest enough to see the truth about youth and age, and makes no bones about it. She doesn't pretend that there's any particular beauty in old age. God!--she's one in a thousand!" "What truth about youth and age?" Leonetta asked, as she mentally commented on the singular coincidence that both Denis the night before, and Lord Henry now, should choose to speak about this particular aspect of her mother. "Why, it must have occurred to you," Lord Henry continued, "that youth makes a universal appeal; it is of interest to everybody. Its peculiar fascination makes it a possession to which none can be indifferent. Do you see that? Do you see how youth has the world's eye upon it,--how, not only in its own, but also in all older generations, it meets with the smile of welcome, of interest, of ready affection? All the world over this is so." "Yes, yes,--I see," cried Leonetta. "And now look on age! It has an interest indeed, but that interest is localised. It is limited to a circle, frequently to a domestic circle, sometimes only to one member in that circle. People say: Who is this poor old man? Who is this poor old woman? Have they any one who cares for them? And if it is known they have good relatives, then the interest ceases, and the rest of the world is only too glad that their responsibility ends in having made the enquiry. But no one asks: Who is this poor young man? or who is this poor flapper, has she any one that cares for her?" Leonetta laughed. "You feel," pursued Lord Henry, "that old people must have someone of their own to love them, because the rest of the world does not do so spontaneously. The old people and sentimentalists who speak of every age having its beauty, are humbugs. Now your mother is the very reverse of one of these humbugs. She knows well enough that old age has only a local, a limited interest, and rather than abandon the universal interest that youth can claim, she fights like a Trojan to retain her youthful beauty. The bravery with which she is now holding old age at arm's length, and defying it to embrace her is perfectly amazing. It shows her infinite good taste; it shows how deeply she has understood the difference between youth and age. It is one of the most thrilling things I have ever witnessed." Leonetta laughed ecstatically. "Yes, yes, I see!" she exclaimed. "You put it in a new light. Bravo, old Peachy!--you make me feel I want to run home and kiss her." And then she added, as if it were an afterthought: "Except that she hates being kissed." Cleopatra was thoughtful. "Yes, I understand all that," she said after a while; "I have understood that for some time,--at least dimly. But then, this local interest which you say old age excites, this local or domestic appeal which it makes,--will not Edith ever feel that?"