h and Hampstead Heath; I also thought
of Carlotta and Hyde Park. The sound of the lions roaring for their
afternoon tea reached me through the still air, and I put from me a
strong temptation to wander alone and meditative in the Zoological
Gardens close by. I must not forget, I reflected, that I am responsible
for Carlotta's education, whereas I am in no wise responsible for the
animals or for Judith. If Judith and I had claims one on the other, the
entire charm of our relationship would be broken.

I resolved to take Carlotta to the park, in order to improve her mind.
She would see how well-bred Englishwomen comport themselves externally.
It would be a lesson in decorum.

I do not despise convention. Indeed, I follow it up to the point when it
puts on the airs of revealed religion. My neighbours and I decide on
a certain code of manners which will enable us to meet without mutual
offence. I agree to put my handkerchief up to my nose when I sneeze in
his presence, and he contracts not to wipe muddy boots on my sofa. I
undertake not to shock his wife by parading my hideous immorality before
her eyes, and he binds himself not to aggravate my celibacy by beating
her or kissing her when I am paying a call. I agree, by wearing an
arbitrarily fixed costume when I dine with him, to brand myself with the
stamp of a certain class of society, so that his guests shall receive me
without question, and he in return gives me a well-ordered dinner
served with the minimum amount of inconvenience to myself that his
circumstances allow. Many folks make what they are pleased to call
unconventionality a mere cloak for selfish disregard of the feelings
and tastes of others. Bohemianism too often means piggish sloth or
slatternly ineptitude.

Convention is solely a matter of manners. That is why I desire to instil
some convention into what, for want of a more accurate term, I may
allude to as Carlotta's mind. It will save me much trouble in the
future.

I summoned Carlotta.

"Carlotta," I said, "I am going to take you to Hyde Park and show
you the English aristocracy wearing their best clothes and their best
behaviour. You must do the same."

"My best clothes?" cried Carlotta, her face lighting up.

"Your very best. Make haste."

I smiled. She ran from the room and in an incredibly short time
reappeared unblushingly bare-necked and bare-armed in the evening dress
that had caused her such dismay on Saturday.

I jumped to my feet.