Cer 8

        It    noon imes on tiptoe into to see if irring, and    made er sleep so late. Finally or came in softly ea, and a pile of letters, on a small tray of old Sevres    curtains,     of tall windows.

        "Monsieur    t; he said, smiling.

        " oclock is it, Victor?" asked Dorian Gray drowsily.

        "One er, Monsieur."

        e it urned over ters. One of t by    m. ated for a moment, and t it aside. tlessly. taiion of cards, invitations to diickets for private vies, and t are soilet-set t    yet o send on to remely old-fas realize t eously ions from Jermyn Street money-lenders    to advany sum of mo a moments notid at t reasoes of i.

        After about ten minutes    up, and te dressing-goer refreser o ten all t aken part in some straragedy came to    ty of a dream about it.

        As soon as    into t doo a lig t    for able close to t e day. t, filled ood before    perfectly happy.

        Suddenly     of trait, and arted.

        "too cold for Monsieur?" asked , putting ae on table. "I s t;

        Dorian s;I am not cold," he murmured.

        as it all true? rait really c been simply ion t ed vas could not alter? t ale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile.

        And, yet, ion of t in t dreaded    leaving t rait. ainty. tes    and turo go,    a o tell o remain. As tood ing for    . "I am not at o any one, Victor," ired.

        table, lit a cigarette, and flung    stood fag t Spanisamped and tern.    curiously,     of a mans life.

        S aside, after all?    let it stay t rue, it errible. If it    true,    it? But e or deadlier c so look at ure? Basil o do t. No; to be examined, and at once. Aate of doubt.

        up and locked bot least o face. It ly true. trait ered.

        As en remembered after first gazing at trait    stifiterest. t su place o    it . as tle affinity betoms t so form and colour on t    be t    soul t, t    dreamed, true? Or errible reason?    afraid, and, going back to t ture in sied horror.

        O it    , o Sibyl Va    too late to make reparation for t. Sill be o some ransformed into some nobler passion, and trait t Basil ed of o o    o some, and sce to oto us all. tes for remorse, drugs t could lull to sleep. But ion of sin.    sign of t upon their souls.

        truck, and four, and ts double c Dorian Gray did not stir. rying to gat to o a pattern; to find    knoo do, or o t over to table and e a passioter te    no one else    to blame us. It is t t, t gives us absolution. ter,    t he had been fiven.

        Suddenly to tside. "My dear boy, I must see you. Let me in at once. I t bear your sting yourself up like t;

        first, but remained quite still. till tinued and gre ter to let Lord o explain to o lead, to quarrel    became necessary to quarrel, to part if parting able. ily across ture, and unlocked the door.

        "I am so sorry for it all, Dorian," said Lord ered. "But you must not too muc it."

        "Do you mean about Sibyl Vane?" asked the lad.

        "Yes, of course," ans is dreadful, from one point of vie it    your fault. tell me, did you go beer t;

        "Yes."

        "I felt sure you ;

        "I al, ly brutal. But it is all rig sorry for anyt    augo knoter."

        "Aake it in t earing t nice curly ;

        "I    t," said Dorian, s;I am perfectly    sce is, to begin    is not old me it    is t t s it,    least not before me. I    to be good. I t bear t;

        "A very cistic basis for etulate you on it. But o begin?"

        "By marrying Sibyl Vane."

        "Marrying Sibyl Vane!" cried Lord anding up and looking at . "But, my dear Dorian--"

        "Yes,    yoing to say. Somet marriage. Dont say it. Dont ever say t kind to me again. to marry me. I am not going to break my o o be my ;

        "Your    you get my letter? I e to you t te do;

        "Your letter? O read it yet,    be somet t I    like. You cut life to pieces ;

        "You kno;

        " do you mean?"

        Lord ting doook botig;Dorian," ;my letter--dont be frigo tell you t Sibyl Vane is dead."

        A cry of pain broke from to , tearing ;Dead! Sibyl dead! It is not true! It is a ?"

        "It is quite true, Dorian," said Lord ;It is in all te doo you to ask you not to see any oill I came. to be an i, of course, and you must not be mixed up in it. t make a man fas in London people are so prejudiced.     to give an io ones old age. I suppose t kno tre? If t, it is all rigo    is an important point."

        Dorian did not anss. ammered, in a stifled voice, "?    did you mean by t? Did Sibyl--? O bear it! But be quick. tell me everyt once."

        "I    it    an act, Dorian, t must be put in t o t seems t as sre     ten sometairs. ted some time for    s e doimately found ake, some dreadful t tres. I dont kno    it e lead in it. I s aneously."

        " is terrible!" cried the lad.

        "Yes; it is very tragic, of course, but you must not get yourself mixed up in it. I see by tandard t seen. I s s you. So knotle about ag. Dorian, you must on your nerves. You must e and di is a Patti nigo my sisters box. S some smart ;

        "So I ; said Dorian Gray, o ;murdered    tle t    t less lovely for all t. t as o-nigo dieric life is! If I    over it. Some it ually, and to me, it seems far too ears.    passionate love-letter I ten in my life. Stra my first passionate love-letter so a dead girl.    te silent people en? O seems years ago to me no dreadful nig really only last nig almost broke. S all to me. It erribly patic. But I    moved a bit. I t    made me afraid. I t tell you     it errible. I said I o    I    s knoo keep me straig for me. S to kill    was selfis;

        "My dear Dorian," anste from ten matc;tely t erest in life. If you created o people about    you ely indifferent to    out about    bo some oto pay for. I say not take,    in any case te failure."

        "I suppose it ; muttered t;But I t it y. It is not my fault t terrible tragedy ed my doing ality about good resolutions--t too late. Miainly ; "Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere ific lay. t is absolutely nil. terile emotions t ain c is all t    be said for t men dra;

        "; cried Dorian Gray, ing over and sitting do I ot feel tragedy as muc to? I dont tless. Do you?"

        "You oo many foolis fo be entitled to give yourself t name, Dorian," answered Lord    melancholy smile.

        t;I dont like t explanation, ; ;but I am glad you dont tless. I am not. A I must admit t t    affect me as it s seems to me to be simply like a o a    errible beauty of a Greek tragedy, a tragedy in    part, but by ;

        "It is an iing question," said Lord e pleasure in playing on tism, "aremely iing question. I fancy t true explanation is t often    tragedies of life occur in sucisti t us by te ineaning, tire lack of style. t us just as vulgarity affects us. te force, and    against t. Sometimes, ragedy t possesses artistic elements of beauty crosses our lives. If ts of beauty are real, to our sense of dramatic effect. Suddenly    ors, but tators of tcacle ent case,    t    I     been very many, but ted on living on, long after I o care for to care for me. tout and tedious, and    once for reminisces. t a is! And ter intellectual stagnation it reveals! One s one ss details. Details are al;

        "I must so; sighed Dorian.

        "ty," rejoined ;Life    violets all tistic m for a roma    die. Ultimately,    did die. I fet . I t    is al. It fills one error of eternity. ell--?--a    Lady ed at dinner ion, and sed on going over t, and raking up ture. I    out again and assured me t I o state t se an enormous dinner, so I did not feel any ay. But aste s is t it is t. But , and as soon as terest of tirely over, to ti. If tragiding, and every tragedy e in a farce. tificial, but t. You are more fortu not one of t Sibyl Vane did for you. Ordinary    by going in for seal colours. rust a    tory. Ot solation in suddenly disc ties of t ty in ones face, as if it    fasating of sins. Religion soles some. Its mysteries ation, a old me, and I    quite uand it. Besides, notold t one is a sinner. sce makes egotists of us all. Yes; to tions t io important one."

        " is t, ; said tlessly.

        "Oion. taking some one elses admirer    al s! to me quite beautiful about ury ;

        "I erribly cruel to    t."

        "I am afraid t e cruelty, doive instincts. e ed t ters, all ted. I am sure you    I    fancy ful you looked. And, after all, you said someto me terday t seemed to me at time to be merely fanciful, but t I see rue, and it o everyt;

        " , ;

        "You said to me t Sibyl Vane represeo you all t s, and Op if s, so life as Imogen."

        "So life again no; muttered the lad, burying his fa his hands.

        "No, so life. S part. But you must t lonely deatarange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, as a er, or Ford, or Cyril tourneur. to you at least som t flitted t ts presence, a reed t soucual life, s, and it marred    asrangled. Cry out against er of Brabantio died. But dont e your tears over Sibyl Vane. S;

        t, t in from t of things.

        After some time Dorian Gray looked up. "You o myself, ; ;I felt all t you    some, and I could not express it to myself.     talk again of ore for me anyt;

        "Life ore for you, Dorian. t you, raordinary good looks,    be able to do."

        "But suppose,    t;

        "A; said Lord o go, "to figories. As it is, t to you. No, you must keep yood looks. e live in a reads too muco be    too muco be beautiful. e ot spare you. And noer dress and drive doo te, as it is."

        "I t too tired to eat anyt is ters box?"

        "ty-seven, I believe. It is on tier. You    e and dine."

        "I dont feel up to it," said Dorian listlessly. "But I am ao you for all t you o me. You are certainly my best friend. No one ood me as you ;

        "e are only at t; ansi is singing."

        As ouces Victor appeared ed impatiently fo. to take an intermiime over everything.

        As soon as , o t bao; ture. It     s of life as ty t marred t, appeared at t t tever it    indifferent to results? Did it merely take izance of    some day aking place before .

        Poor Sibyl!    a roma en mimicked deatage. tou    dreadful last se?    to oned for everyt t s    at tre.    ic figure sent on to tage to sy of love. A ragic figure? tears came to remulous grace. ily and looked again at ture.

        t time    for e curiosity about life. Eternal youte passion, pleasures subtle a,    o bear t was all.

        A feeling of pai over    of tion t ore for to kiss, ted lips t no er m    before trait    its beauty, almost enamoured of it, as it seemed to    times. as it to alter noo o bee a monstrous and loato be o be s out from t t en toucs y of it! ty of it!

        For a moment,    of praying t t existed bet mig,    life, astic t c be, or    fateful seque mig? Besides,    really under rol?    indeed been prayer t itution? Mig be some curious stific reason for it all? If t could exercise its influence upon a living anism, mig t exercise an influence upon dead and inanic t t or scious desire, mig ternal to ourselves vibrate in unison om calling to atom i love or strange affinity? But tance. empt by a prayer any terrible poure o alter, it o alter. t o it?

        For tc. o follos secret places. trait o    magiirrors. As it o    o er came upon it, ill be standing    from its face, a be one blossom of    one pulse , and fleet, and joyous.    did it matter    hing.

        o its former pla front of ture, smiling as o    ing for er    the opera, and Lord henry was leaning over his chair.
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