Oscar Wilde

The Picture of Dorian Gray Oscar Wilde

As they entered they saw Dorian Gray. He was seated at the piano, with his back to them, turning over the pages of a volume of Schumann's "Forest Scenes." "You must lend me these, Basil," he cried. "I want to learn them. They are perfectly charming.""That entirely depends on how you sit to-day, Dorian.""Oh, I am tired of sitting, and I don't want a life-sized portrait of myself," answered the lad, swinging round on the music-stool in a wilful, petulant manner. When he caught sight of LordHenry, a faint blush coloured his cheeks for a moment, and he started up. "I beg your pardon, Basil, but I didn't know you had any one with you.""This is Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian, an old Oxford friend of mine. I have just been telling himwhat a capital sitter you were, and now you have spoiled everything.""You have not spoiled my pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Gray," said Lord Henry, steppingforward and extending his hand. "My aunt has often spoken to me about you. You are one of herfavourites, and, I am afraid, one of her victims also.""I am in Lady Agatha's black books at present," answered Dorian with a funny look ofpenitence. "I promised to go to a club in Whitechapel with her last Tuesday, and I really forgot allabout it. We were to have played a duet together-three duets, I believe. I don't know what she willsay to me. I am far too frightened to call.""Oh, I will make your peace with my aunt. She is quite devoted to you. And I don't think itreally matters about your not being there. The audience probably thought it was a duet. When AuntAgatha sits down to the piano, she makes quite enough noise for two people.""That is very horrid 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 curvedscarlet lips, his frank blue eyes, his crisp gold hair. There was something in his face that made onetrust him at once. All the candour of youth was there, as well as all youth's passionate purity. Onefelt 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 LordHenry 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 lookingworried, 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 Iasked you to go away?"