Cer 4

        Oernoon, a monter, Dorian Gray le library of Lord    s ained oak, its cream-coloured frieze and ceiling of raised plasters brickdust felt carpet streiny satiood a statuette by Clodion, and beside it lay a copy of Les t Nouvelles, bound for Margaret of Valois by Clovis Eve and po daisies t Queen ed for -tulips elsreamed t-coloured light of a summer day in London.

        Lord    yet e in. e on principle,    punctuality is time. So tless fingers urned over tely illustrated edition of Manon Lescaut t onous tig of torze clonoyed wice    of going away.

        At last ep outside, and t;e you are, ; he murmured.

        "I am afraid it is not ; answered a shrill voice.

        o . "I beg your pardon. I t--"

        "You t it    me introduce myself. I knoe een of t;

        "Not seventeen, Lady ;

        "ell, eig at t; Sc-me-not eyes. S on in a tempest. Surned, s all ried to look picturesque, but only succeeded in being untidy. oria, and s mania foing to church.

        "t    Lo;

        "Yes; it    dear Loter t is so loud t one    talk time    ot one says. t is a great advantage, dont you t;

        taccato laugo play ortoise-shell paper-knife.

        Dorian smiled and s;I am afraid I dont talk during music--at least, during good music. If one    is ones duty to dro in versation."

        "A is one of    it, Mr. Gray? I al to kno you must not t like good music. I adore it, but I am afraid of it. It makes me too romantic. I s-- t a time, sometimes, ells me. I dont kno is about t is t t t are born in England bee fners after a time, dont t is so clever of t to art. Makes it quite opolitan, doesnt it? You o any of my parties,    e. I t afford orc I suresque. But o look for you, to ask you somet     music. e e te different. But    pleasant. I am so glad Ive seen ;

        "I am ce c; said Lord ing -s t;So sorry I am late, Dorian. I    to look after a piece of old brocade in ardour Street and ain for . No;

        "I am afraid I must be going," exclaimed Lady ;I o drive , I suppose? So am I. Per Lady t;

        "I dare say, my dear," said Lord ting t    all nigted out of t odour ipanni. t a cigarette and flung he sofa.

        "Never marry a raw-coloured ; er a few puffs.

        ";

        "Because timental."

        "But I like seal people."

        "Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because tired; ed."

        "I dont to marry, oo muc is one of your apting it into practice, as I do everyt you say."

        "; asked Lord er a pause.

        "itress," said Dorian Gray, blushing.

        Lord ;t is a rat."

        "You    say so if you saw ;

        ";

        ";

        "Never ;

        "No one ;

        "My dear boy, no ive sex. to say, but t c triumpter over mind, just as men represent triump;

        ";

        "My dear Dorian, it is quite true. I am analysing    present, so I ougo kno is not so abstruse as I t it , ultimately, t to gain a reputation for respectability, you o take to supper. t one mistake,    in order to try and look young. randmoted in order to try and talk brilliantly. Rouge and esprit used to go toget is all over noen years youer, sly satisfied. As for versation, talking to, and t be admitted into det society. ell me about yenius. ;

        "Aerrify me.

        "Never mind t. ;

        "About t;

        "And w;

        "I ell you,    you mustnt be unsympatic about it. After all, it never    you. You filled me o kno life. For days after I met you, someto trolled doo look at every one    of lives ted me. Oterror. te poison in tions. . . . ell, one evening about seven oclock, I determio go out in searcure. I felt t trous London of ours, s myriads of people, its sordid sinners, and its splendid sins, as you once p, must ore for me. I fancied a t. I remembered    oget ty being t of life. I dont knoed, but I    out as and black grassless squares. About    eigtle tre,    flaring gas-jets and gaudy play-bills. A    amazing coat I ever beanding at trance, smoking a vile cigar. s, and an enormous diamond blazed in tre of a soiled s.ook off    y. t    amused me. er. You    I really    in and paid a o t day I t make out    romany life. I see you are laug is ;

        "I am not laug least I am not laug you. But you s say test romance of your life. You s romance of your life. You o do. t is try. Dont be afraid. te tore for you. t;

        "Do you ture so s; cried Dorian Gray angrily.

        "No; I ture so deep."

        ";

        "My dear boy, t ty, and ty, I call eitom or tion. Faito tional life ency is to tellect--simply a fession of failure. Fait analyse it some day. ty is in it. t    afraid t ot pick t I dont    to interrupt you. Go on ory."

        "ell, I found myself seated in a tle private box, aring me in t from beain and surveyed t ae     talls e empty, and t I suppose t about errible ption of nuts going on."

        "It must    like tis;

        "Just like, I so    sig do you t;

        "I s Boy, or Dumb but I. Our fato like t sort of piece, I believe. t ics, les grandpères ont toujours tort."

        "t . I must admit t I    tcill, I felt ied, in a sort of    any rate, I determio    for t act. tra, presided over by a young    at a cracked piano, t nearly drove me a at last tout elderly gentleman, ragedy voice, and a figure like a beer-barrel. Mercutio    as bad. roduced gags of    friendly terms . tesque as t looked as if it    of a try-boot Juliet! een years of age, tle, flo    als of a rose. S to me o pat you unmoved, but t beauty, mere beauty, could fill your eyes ears. I tell you,    of tears t came ae. And     first, es t seemed to fall singly upon ones ear. t became a little louder, and sounded like a flute or a distant boy. In t remulous ecstasy t one    before das, later on,    I s. . I dont knoomb, sug tc of Arden, disguised as a pretty boy in    and dainty cap. So ty king, and given o ter o taste of. S, and t. I ume. Ordinary o ones imaginatioo tury. No glamour ever transfigures ts. One    alery in any of tter at tea-parties in ternooyped smile and te obvious. But an actress!    an actress is!    you tell me t tress?"

        "Because I ;

        "Oed faces."

        "Dont run doraordinary cimes," said Lord henry.

        "I old you about Sibyl Vane."

        "You could not elling me, Dorian. All tell me everyt;

        "Yes,    is true. I ot elling you t to you. You and me."

        "People like you--t it crimes, Dorian. But I am muc, all tell me-- reacc are your actual relations ;

        Dorian Gray leaped to , ;;

        "It is only t are ouc; said Le touc;But    any rate, I suppose?"

        "Of course I ko ter to take me beroduce me to old    Juliet    omb in Verona. I t, t    I aken too muc;

        "I am not surprised."

        "te for any of told erribly disappoi t, and fided to me t all tic critics     to be boug;

        "I s    of t be at all expensive."

        "ell, o t; laug;By time, s    out in tre, and I o go. ed me to try some cigars t rongly reended. I deed. t nig t I    patron of art.    offensive brute, traordinary passion for Sold me once,    cies irely due to ted on calling o t a distin."

        "It iny dear Dorian--a great distinost people bee bankrupt ted too o ry is an    o Miss Sibyl Vane?"

        "t. S    me--at least I fa sent. ermio take me beed. It    ing to kno?"

        "No; I dont t;

        "My dear ;

        "I ell you some otime. No to kno t;

        "Sibyl? Ole. t e    of e unscious of ood grinning at ty greenroom, making elaborate speec us botood looking at ea calling me My Lord, so I o assure Sibyl t I    anyte simply to me, You look more like a prince. I must call you Prince C;

        "Upon my s."

        "You dont uand ired    of magenta dressing- nigter days."

        "I kno look. It depresses me," murmured Lord henry, examining his rings.

        "ted to tell me ory, but I said it did not i me."

        "You e rigely mean about edies."

        "Sibyl is t.    is it to me le feet, sely airely divine. Every nigo see , and every nig;

        "t is t you never dine    you must    it is not quite ed."

        "My dear ogeto times," said Dorian, opening his blue eyes in wonder.

        "You ale."

        "ell, I t o see Sibyl play," ;even if it is only for a si. I get    is    little ivory body, I am filled ;

        "You    dine o-nig you?"

        ;to-nig; ;and to-morro;

        ";

        "Never."

        "I gratulate you."

        "    I tell you s make s of life, tell me o e! I    to make Romeo jealous. I    to er and gro a breato stir t into sciousness, to o pain. My God, ; ic spots of red burned on erribly excited.

        Lord cle sense of pleasure.    ened boy    in Basil udio! ure    flame. Out of its secret    o meet it on the way.

        "And o do?" said Lord    last.

        "I    you and Basil to e    and see . I    test fear of t. You are certain to ao    of to    least for time. I so pay    is settled, I sake a est End tre and bring    properly. S;

        "t ;

        "Yes, s merely art, mate art-instinct, in    sy also; and you en told me t it is personalities, not principles, t move t;

        "ell, w nig;

        "Let me see. to-day is tuesday. Let us fix to-morroo-morro;

        "All rigol at eig Basil."

        "Not eig six. e must be tain rises. You must see    act, ;

        " six!    an    ea, or reading an Englis must be seven. leman dines before seveo ;

        "Dear Basil! I    laid eyes on    is rat me my portrait in t le jealous of ture for being a    t I delig. Perter e to     to see    annoy me. ;

        Lord ;People are very fond of giving a t is y."

        "O of fello o me to be just a bit of a Pine. Since I ."

        "Basil, my dear boy, puts everyt is co     for life but ists I ful are bad artists. Good artists exist simply in ly are perfectly uing in    poet, a really great poet, is t uical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fasating. turesque t of e sos makes a man quite irresistible. ry t    e. te try t t realize."

        "I    really so, ; said Dorian Gray, putting some perfume on    of a large, gold-topped bottle t stood on table. "It must be, if you say it. And noing for me. Dont fet about to-morro;

        As    to tainly feed    tion of some one else caused    test pang of annoyance or jealousy. . It made eresting study. ural sce, but t-matter of t sce o rivial and of no import. And so ing ing ot appeared to igating. pared to it t rue t as one cs curious crucible of pain and pleasure, one could not roubling tion turbid rous fancies and missle t to knoies one o si e t one o pass t to uand ture. And, yet,    reo ional coloured life of tellect--to observe     t    t discord--t in t!    matter    oo ion.

        brougo e eyes--t it ain era Dorian Grays soul uro te girl and boent tion. ure. t ed till life disclosed to ts secrets, but to to t, teries of life imes t of art, and c of literature, ely ellect. But noy took t, s , life s elaborate masterpieces, just as poetry ure, or painting.

        Yes, ture.     spring. t    ciful face, and iful soul, o . It ter    all ended, or io end.    or a play, e from one, but y, and whose wounds are like red roses.

        Soul and body, body and soul--erious ts moments of spirituality. tellect could degrade. rary definitions of ordinary psycs! Ao decide beted in t? tion of spirit from matter ery, and t ter ery also.

        o    eactle spring of life o us. As it ood ourselves and rarely uood ot o takes. Moralists    as a mode of aiion of cer,    as somet taug to folloo avoid. But tive po tle of an active cause as sce itself. All t it really demonstrated    our future , and t times, and h joy.

        It o    tal met any stifialysis of tainly Dorian Gray    made to o promise ricful results. erest. t t curiosity o do , curiosity and t it    a simple, but rat t of tinct of boyransformed by tion, et seemed to to be remote from sense, and    very reason all t    yrannized most strongly over us. Our    motives ure    often    ing on oting on ourselves.

        dreaming on to t entered and reminded    ime to dress for dinner.    up and looked out into treet. t ten into scarlet gold te. tes of ed metal. t of    o end.

        table.    and found it    o tell    o be married to Sibyl Vane.
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