Dorian Gray shook hands with Lord Henry, and while they talked, Lord Henry studied the young man. Yes, he was very good－looking indeed, with his bright blue eyes and his gold hair. He had an open, honest face. There were no dark secrets in that face. Lord Henry could understand Basil's feelings for him.

"Dorian, this is Lord Henry Wotton," said Basil. "He's an old friend of mine."

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

"Oh, please don't leave, Lord Henry. Basil never talks when he's painting, and it's so boring. Please stay. I'd like you to talk to me."

As they entered the house, they saw Dorian Gray. He was sitting by the window and turning some pages of music.

"You must lend me this music, Basil," he said. Then he turned and saw Lord Henry. "Oh, I'm sorry, Basil. I didn't realize…"

Basil was getting his paints ready. Now he looked at Lord Henry. "Harry," he said, "I want to finish this portrait of Dorian today. I'm afraid I must ask you to go away."

"Well, Basil?"Lord Henry asked.

The artist bit his lip. "Very well, Harry. Stay… if you must."

Lord Henry watched Dorian, and smiled. He knew when to speak, and when to be silent. He felt very interested in this young man, with his wonderful face.

While Basil painted, Lord Henry talked, and the young man listened. The words filled Dorian's head like music -- wild, exciting music. What a beautiful voice Lord Henry has, he thought. They are only words, but how terrible they are! How bright and dangerous! You cannot escape from words. Dorian began to understand things about himself that he had never understood before. Why had he never seen himself so clearly, he wondered?

"You must come out of the sun, Mr Gray," said Lord Henry. "A brown skin isn't fashionable and it won't suit you."

Later they walked in the garden together, while Basil worked at the portrait. The rich scent of the flowers was all around them. Dorian looked at the older man, and wondered about him. He was tall, with a thin dark face and cool white hands. Dorian liked him, but why did he feel a little afraid of him?

"But it should matter to you, Mr Gray."

"Because you're young, and being young is wonderful. Ah, you smile. You don't think so now, but one day you'll understand what I mean -- when you're old, and tired, and no longer beautiful. You have a wonderfully beautiful face, Mr Gray. It's true. Don't shake your head at me. And there's nothing more important, more valuable than beauty. When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it. Then you'll suddenly discover that your life is empty -- there will be nothing to enjoy, nothing to hope for. Time is your enemy, Mr Gray. It will steal everything from you. People are afraid of themselves today. Afraid to live. But you, with your face and your youth, there's nothing that you cannot do. You must live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! We can never be young again. Youth! Ah, there is nothing in the world as important as youth!"

Dorian Gray listened and wondered. New ideas filled his head. He felt strange, different.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," laughed Dorian.

"Why?" asked Dorian.

At that moment Basil called them from the house. Lord Henry turned to Dorian. "You're happy that you've met me, Mr Gray," he said.

"Always!"Lord Henry smiled. "What a terrible word! Women use it much too often. What does it mean? It's today that is important."

"Yes, I'm happy now. Will I always be happy, I wonder?"

In the house Basil Hallward stood in front of the portrait of Dorian Gray. "It's finished," he said. He wrote his name in the corner of the picture.

"Don't you like it, Dorian?" asked Basil at last.

Lord Henry studied the picture carefully. "Yes," he said. "It's your best work. It's excellent. Mr Gray, come and look at yourself."

"Of course he likes it," said Lord Henry. "It's a very fine work of art. I'd like to buy it myself."

Dorian looked at the picture for a long time. He smiled as he saw the beautiful face in front of him, and for a moment he felt happy. But then he remembered Lord Henry's words. "How long," he thought, "will I look like the picture? Time will steal my beauty from me. I will grow old, but the picture will always be young." And his heart grew cold with fear.

"I wish," cried Dorian suddenly, "I wish that I could always stay young and that the picture could grow old."

"It's not mine to sell, Harry. The picture is Dorian's."

"Dorian, Dorian!" said Basil unhappily. "Don't talk like that. You're my dearest friend." He turned to Lord Henry. "What have you been teaching him?" he asked angrily. "Why didn't you go away when I asked you?"

"No, I wouldn't like it at all," agreed Basil with a smile.

Lord Henry laughed. "I don't think you would like that, Basil, would you?"

Dorian turned, his face red and angry. "Yes, you like your art better than your friends," he said to Basil. "How long will you like me? Only while I'm beautiful, I suppose. Lord Henry is right. Youth is the most important thing in the world. Oh, why did you paint this picture? Why should it stay young while I grow old? I wish the picture could change, and I could stay as I am. I would give anything, yes, anything, for that." He hid his face in his hands.

Lord Henry smiled. "It's the real Dorian Gray -- that's all."

"So," said Basil coldly, "you've decided that you like the portrait after all."

Basil turned and walked quickly over to the portrait. "It's my best work, but now I hate it. I will destroy it now, before it destroys our friendship." He picked up a long knife.

But Dorian was there before him. "No, Basil, don't! You can't destroy it. That would be murder!"

The next morning Lord Henry went to visit his aunt, Lady Agatha. She was surprised to see him.

Later, during tea, Lord Henry invited Basil and Dorian to go with him to the theatre that night. Basil refused, but Dorian was happy to accept.

"I thought you fashionable young men never got up until the afternoon," she said.

"Stay and have dinner with me, Dorian," said Basil, but no, Dorian preferred to go to the theatre with Lord Henry.

"Like it?" said Dorian. "I'm in love with it. I cannot live without it."

As the door closed behind Dorian and Lord Henry, Basil turned back to the picture. "I shall stay here with the real Dorian Gray," he said sadly to himself.

"Oh, he's Lord Kelso's grandson," said Lady Agatha. "His mother was Lady Margaret Devereux, a very beautiful woman. She ran away from home to marry a poor soldier. He was killed a few months later and she died soon after her son was born. She was a lovely woman. Dorian Gray has her beauty and he will, I understand, have his grandfather's money."

"Ah, but my dear aunt, I need some information, you see," replied Lord Henry. "I met Dorian Gray yesterday, and I'd like to know more about him."

"Come to lunch," invited his aunt. "Dorian Gray will be here and you can meet him again."

"I'd love to come," smiled Lord Henry.

"He is," agreed Lord Henry, "extraordinarily good－looking."

As he left, Lord Henry thought about this sad story. He became more interested than ever in this beautiful young man, Dorian Gray. He remembered the night before, when Dorian had watched him with his bright blue eyes, half wondering, half afrald. "He does not yet know himself," thought Lord Henry, with a smile. "But I can teach him. Yes, I can influence him in any way that I please. I will teach him to discover the fire of youth, and love, and life."

After a while the conversation turned to a friend's plans to marry an American girl.

"It is," said Lord Henry. "That's the reason why they're so happy to escape from it."

"Why can't these American women stay in their own country? They're always telling us that it's a paradise for women," said Lord Burdon.

The conversation among the fashionable people at Lady Agatha's lunch was quick and clever. Lord Henry talked, in his lazy, amusing way, and knew that Dorian Gray was watching and listening.

"They say," laughed the man next to Lady Agatha, "that when good Americans die, they go to Paris."

"Really! And where do bad Americans go to when they die?" asked Lady Agatha.

People smiled, and the conversation moved on to other things. Lord Henry took ideas and played with them; he gave them wings, and they flew like brightly coloured birds around the room. People laughed, and smiled, and told him that he should be more serious. But Dorian Gray never took his eyes away from Lord Henry.

"They go to America," said Lord Henry.

After lunch Lord Henry said that he was going to the park and as he left the room, Dorian Gray touched his arm. "May I come with you?" he asked.

"But I thought you'd promised to go and see Basil Hallward," Lord Henry replied.

"Ah! I've talked enough for today." Lord Henry smiled. "But you may come with me if you want to."

"Yes, but I'd prefer to come with you. Please let me," said Dorian. "I want to listen to you talking. Nobody speaks as well as you do."