id to her, and not very nice to me," answered Dorian,
laughing.

Lord Henry looked at him. Yes, he was certainly wonderfully handsome,
with his finely-curved scarlet lips, his frank blue eyes, his crisp gold
hair. There was something in his face that made one trust him at once.
All the candour of youth was there, as well as all youth's passionate
purity. One felt that he had kept himself unspotted from the world. No
wonder Basil Hallward worshipped him.

"You are too charming to go in for philanthropy, Mr. Gray--far too
charming." And Lord Henry flung himself down on the divan, and opened
his cigarette-case.

The painter had been busy mixing his colours and getting his brushes
ready. He was looking worried, and when he heard Lord Henry's last
remark he glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Harry,
I want to finish this picture to-day. Would you think it awfully rude of
me if I asked you to go away?"

Lord Henry smiled, and looked at Dorian Gray. "Am I to go, Mr. Gray?" he
asked.

"Oh, please don't, Lord Henry. I see that Basil is in one of his sulky
moods; and I can't bear him when he sulks. Besides, I want you to tell
me why I should not go in for philanthropy."

"I don't know that I shall tell you that, Mr. Gray. It is so tedious a
subject that one would have to talk seriously about it. But I certainly
shall not run away, now that you have asked me to stop. You don't really
mind, Basil, do you? You have often told me that you liked your sitters
to have someone to chat to."

Hallward bit his lip. "If Dorian wishes it, of course you must stay.
Dorian's whims are laws to everybody, except himself."

Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves. "You are very pressing, Basil,
but I am afraid I must go. I have promised to meet a man at the Orleans.
Good-bye, Mr. Gray. Come and see me some afternoon in Curzon Street. I
am nearly always at home at five o'clock. Write to me when you are
coming. I should be sorry to miss you."

"Basil," cried Dorian Gray, "if Lord Henry Wotton goes I shall go too.
You never open your lips while you are painting, and it is horribly dull
standing on a platform and trying to look pleasant. Ask him to stay. I
insist upon it."

"Stay, Harry, to oblige Dorian, and to oblige me," said Hallward, gazing
intently at his picture. "It is quite true, I never talk when I am
working, and never listen either, and it must be dreadfully tedious for
my unfortunate sitters. I beg you to sta