dsteppedbacktolookathisworkfromadistaheslantihatstreamedthroughtheopendoorwaythedustdandwasgolden.Theheavystoftherosesseemedtobroodovereverything.

    AfteraboutaquarterofanhourHallwardstoppedpainting,lookedforalongtimeatDray,andthenforalongtimeatthepicture,bitingtheendofoneofhishugebrushesandfrowning."Itisquitefinished,"hecriedatlast,andstoopingdowehisnameinlongvermilioerso-handerofthevas.

    LordHenrycameoverandexamihepicture.Itwascertainlyawonderfulworkofart,andawonderfullikenessaswell.

    "Mydearfellow,Igratulateyoumostwarmly,"hesaid."Itisthefiportraitofmoderntimes.Mr.Gray,eoverandlookatyourself."

    Theladstarted,asifawakenedfromsomedream.

    "Isitreallyfinished?"hemurmured,steppingdownfromtheplatform.

    "Quitefinished,"saidthepainter."Andyouhavesatsplendidlyto-day.Iamawfullyobligedtoyou."

    "Thatisentirelyduetome,"brokeinLordHenry."Isntit,Mr.Gray?"

    Dorianmadenoanswer,butpassedlistlesslyinfrontofhispictureandturowardsit.Whenhesawithedrewbadhischeeksflushedforamomentwithpleasure.Alookofjoycameintohiseyes,asifhehadreizedhimselfforthefirsttime.Hestoodtheremotionlessandinwonder,dimlysciousthatHallwardeakingtohim,butnotcatgthemeaningofhiswords.Thesenseofhisowylikearevelation.Hehadneverfeltitbefore.BasilHallwardsplimentshadseemedtohimtobemerelythecharmingexaggerationoffriendship.Hehadlistehem,laughedatthem,fotteheyhadnotinfluencedhisnature.ThenhadeLordHenryWotton