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1A week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby Royal, talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth, who
2with her husband, a jaded-looking man of sixty, was amongst his guests. It was tea-time, and the mellow light of the
3huge, lace-covered lamp that stood on the table lit up the delicate china and hammered silver of the service at which
4the duchess was presiding. Her white hands were moving daintily among the cups, and her full red lips were smiling at
5something that Dorian had whispered to her. Lord Henry was lying back in a silk-draped wicker chair, looking at them. On
6a peach-coloured divan sat Lady Narborough, pretending to listen to the duke's description of the last Brazilian beetle
7that he had added to his collection. Three young men in elaborate smoking-suits were handing tea-cakes to some of the
8women. The house-party consisted of twelve people, and there were more expected to arrive on the next day. "What are you
9two talking about?" said Lord Henry, strolling over to the table and putting his cup down. "I hope Dorian has told you
10about my plan for rechristening everything, Gladys. It is a delightful idea." "But I don't want to be rechristened,
11Harry," rejoined the duchess, looking up at him with her wonderful eyes. "I am quite satisfied with my own name, and I
12am sure Mr. Gray should be satisfied with his." "My dear Gladys, I would not alter either name for the world. They are
13both perfect. I was thinking chiefly of flowers. Yesterday I cut an orchid, for my button-hole. It was a marvellous
14spotted thing, as effective as the seven deadly sins. In a thoughtless moment I asked one of the gardeners what it was
15called. He told me it was a fine specimen of Robinsoniana, or something dreadful of that kind. It is a sad truth, but we
16have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things. Names are everything. I never quarrel with actions. My one
17quarrel is with words. That is the reason I hate vulgar realism in literature. The man who could call a spade a spade
18should be compelled to use one. It is the only thing he is fit for." "Then what should we call you, Harry?" she asked.
19"His name is Prince Paradox," said Dorian. "I recognize him in a flash," exclaimed the duchess. "I won't hear of it,"
20laughed Lord Henry, sinking into a chair. "From a label there is no escape! I refuse the title." "Royalties may not
21abdicate," fell as a warning from pretty lips. "You wish me to defend my throne, then?" "Yes." "I give the truths of
22to-morrow." "I prefer the mistakes of to-day," she answered. "You disarm me, Gladys," he cried, catching the wilfulness
23of her mood. "Of your shield, Harry, not of your spear." "I never tilt against beauty," he said, with a wave of his
24hand. "That is your error, Harry, believe me. You value beauty far too much." "How can you say that? I admit that I
25think that it is better to be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand, no one is more ready than I am to
26acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly." "Ugliness is one of the seven deadly sins, then?" cried the
27duchess. "What becomes of your simile about the orchid?" "Ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtues, Gladys. You, as a
28good Tory, must not underrate them. Beer, the Bible, and the seven deadly virtues have made our England what she is."
29"You don't like your country, then?" she asked. "I live in it." "That you may censure it the better." "Would you have me
30take the verdict of Europe on it?" he inquired. "What do they say of us?" "That Tartuffe has emigrated to England and
31opened a shop." "Is that yours, Harry?" "I give it to you." "I could not use it. It is too true." "You need not be
32afraid. Our countrymen never recognize a description." "They are practical." "They are more cunning than practical. When
33they make up their ledger, they balance stupidity by wealth, and vice by hypocrisy." "Still, we have done great things."
34"Great things have been thrust on us, Gladys." "We have carried their burden." "Only as far as the Stock Exchange." She
35shook her head. "I believe in the race," she cried. "It represents the survival of the pushing." "It has development."
36"Decay fascinates me more." "What of art?" she asked. "It is a malady." "Love?" "An illusion." "Religion?" "The
37fashionable substitute for belief." "You are a sceptic." "Never! Scepticism is the beginning of faith." "What are you?"
38"To define is to limit." "Give me a clue." "Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth." "You bewilder me.
39Let us talk of some one else." "Our host is a delightful topic. Years ago he was christened Prince Charming." "Ah! don't
40remind me of that," cried Dorian Gray. "Our host is rather horrid this evening," answered the duchess, colouring. "I
41believe he thinks that Monmouth married me on purely scientific principles as the best specimen he could find of a
42modern butterfly." "Well, I hope he won't stick pins into you, Duchess," laughed Dorian. "Oh! my maid does that already,
43Mr. Gray, when she is annoyed with me." "And what does she get annoyed with you about, Duchess?" "For the most trivial
44things, Mr. Gray, I assure you. Usually because I come in at ten minutes to nine and tell her that I must be dressed by
45half-past eight." "How unreasonable of her! You should give her warning." "I daren't, Mr. Gray. Why, she invents hats
46for me. You remember the one I wore at Lady Hilstone's garden-party? You don't, but it is nice of you to pretend that
47you do. Well, she made it out of nothing. All good hats are made out of nothing." "Like all good reputations, Gladys,"
48interrupted Lord Henry. "Every effect that one produces gives one an enemy. To be popular one must be a mediocrity."
49"Not with women," said the duchess, shaking her head; "and women rule the world. I assure you we can't bear
50mediocrities. We women, as some one says, love with our ears, just as you men love with your eyes, if you ever love at
51all." "It seems to me that we never do anything else," murmured Dorian. "Ah! then, you never really love, Mr. Gray,"
52answered the duchess with mock sadness. "My dear Gladys!" cried Lord Henry. "How can you say that? Romance lives by
53repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art. Besides, each time that one loves is the only time one has
54ever loved. Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have in life but
55one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible." "Even when
56one has been wounded by it, Harry?" asked the duchess after a pause. "Especially when one has been wounded by it,"
57answered Lord Henry. The duchess turned and looked at Dorian Gray with a curious expression in her eyes. "What do you
58say to that, Mr. Gray?" she inquired. Dorian hesitated for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "I always
59agree with Harry, Duchess." "Even when he is wrong?" "Harry is never wrong, Duchess." "And does his philosophy make you
60happy?" "I have never searched for happiness. Who wants happiness? I have searched for pleasure." "And found it, Mr.
61Gray?" "Often. Too often." The duchess sighed. "I am searching for peace," she said, "and if I don't go and dress, I
62shall have none this evening." "Let me get you some orchids, Duchess," cried Dorian, starting to his feet and walking
63down the conservatory. "You are flirting disgracefully with him," said Lord Henry to his cousin. "You had better take
64care. He is very fascinating." "If he were not, there would be no battle." "Greek meets Greek, then?" "I am on the side
65of the Trojans. They fought for a woman." "They were defeated." "There are worse things than capture," she answered.
66"You gallop with a loose rein." "Pace gives life," was the riposte. "I shall write it in my diary to-night." "What?"
67"That a burnt child loves the fire." "I am not even singed. My wings are untouched." "You use them for everything,
68except flight." "Courage has passed from men to women. It is a new experience for us." "You have a rival." "Who?" He
69laughed. "Lady Narborough," he whispered. "She perfectly adores him." "You fill me with apprehension. The appeal to
70antiquity is fatal to us who are romanticists." "Romanticists! You have all the methods of science." "Men have educated
71us." "But not explained you." "Describe us as a sex," was her challenge. "Sphinxes without secrets."
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