In the garden
the leaves shone in the sunlight and the flowers moved gently in the summer
wind. The two young men sat on a long seat under the shadow of a tall tree.
‘Before I go,’ said Lord Henry, ‘you must answer my question, Basil. Why
won’t you exhibit Dorian Gray’s portrait in an art gallery?’ He looked at
his friend and smiled. ‘Please give me the real reason, now. Not the
answer that you gave me before.’ ‘Harry, when an artist feels strong about a
portrait, it becomes a portrait of himself, not of the sitter. The artist paints
the face and the body of the sitter, but in fact he shows his own feelings. The
reason why I won’t exhibit this portrait is because I’m afraid it shows the
secret of my heart.’ Lord Henry laughed. ‘And what is this secret of your
heart?’ His friend was silent. Lord Henry picked a flower and looked at it
with interest. ‘Two months ago,’ Basil said at last, ‘I was at a party at
Lady Brandon’s house. I was talking to friends when I realized that someone
was watching me. I turned and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. We looked at
each other, and I felt a sudden, strong fear. I felt that this person could
change my life … could bring me happiness – and unhappiness. Later, Lady
Brandon’s house introduced us. We laughed at something that she said and
become friends at once.’ He stopped. Lord Henry smiled. ‘Tell me more,’ he
said. ‘How often do you see him?’ ‘Every day,’ answered Basil. ‘I’m
not happy if I don’t see him every day – he’s necessary to my life.’
‘But I thought you only cared about your art,’ said Lord Henry. ‘He
is all my art now,’ replied Basil, seriously. ‘Since I met Dorian
Gray, the work that I’ve done is good, the best work of my life. Because of
him I see art in a different way, a new way. When I’m with him, I paint
wonderful pictures.’ ‘Basil, this is extraordinary. I must meet Dorian
Gray,’ said Lord Henry.
