CHAPTER XV.

Thatevening,ateight-thirty,exquisitelydressedandwearingalargebutton-holeofParmaviolets,DorianGraywasusheredintoLadyNarborough’sdrawing-roombybowingservants.Hisforeheadwasthrobbingwithmaddenednerves,andhefeltwildlyexcited,buthismannerashebentoverhishostess’shandwasaseasyandgracefulasever.Perhapsoneneverseemssomuchatone’seaseaswhenonehastoplayapart.CertainlynoonelookingatDorianGraythatnightcouldhavebelievedthathehadpassedthroughatragedyashorribleasanytragedyofourage.Thosefinelyshapedfingerscouldneverhaveclutchedaknifeforsin,northosesmilinglipshavecriedoutonGodandgoodness.Hehimselfcouldnothelpwonderingatthecalmofhisdemeanour,andforamomentfeltkeenlytheterriblepleasureofadoublelife. Itwasasmallparty,gotupratherinahurrybyLadyNarborough,whowasaverycleverwomanwithwhatLordHenryusedtodescribeastheremainsofreallyremarkableugliness.Shehadprovedanexcellentwifetooneofourmosttediousambassadors,andhavingburiedherhusbandproperlyinamarblemausoleum,whichshehadherselfdesigned,andmarriedoffherdaughterstosomerich,ratherelderlymen,shedevotedherselfnowtothepleasuresofFrenchfiction,Frenchcookery,andFrenchespritwhenshecouldgetit. Dorianwasoneofherespecialfavourites,andshealwaystoldhimthatshewasextremelygladshehadnotmethiminearlylife.“Iknow,mydear,Ishouldhavefallenmadlyinlovewithyou,”sheusedtosay,“andthrownmybonnetrightoverthemillsforyoursake.Itismostfortunatethatyouwerenotthoughtofatthetime.Asitwas,ourbonnetsweresounbecoming,andthemillsweresooccupiedintryingtoraisethewind,thatIneverhadevenaflirtationwithanybody.However,thatwasallNarborough’sfault.Hewasdreadfullyshort-sighted,andthereisnopleasureintakinginahusbandwhoneverseesanything.” Hergueststhiseveningwererathertedious.Thefactwas,assheexplainedtoDorian,behindaveryshabbyfan,oneofhermarrieddaughtershadcomeupquitesuddenlytostaywithher,and,tomakemattersworse,hadactuallybroughtherhusbandwithher.“Ithinkitismostunkindofher,mydear,”shewhispered.“OfcourseIgoandstaywiththemeverysummerafterIcomefromHomburg,butthenanoldwomanlikememusthavefreshairsometimes,andbesides,Ireallywakethemup.Youdon’tknowwhatanexistencetheyleaddownthere.Itispureunadulteratedcountrylife.Theygetupearly,becausetheyhavesomuchtodo,andgotobedearly,becausetheyhavesolittletothinkabout.TherehasnotbeenascandalintheneighbourhoodsincethetimeofQueenElizabeth,andconsequentlytheyallfallasleepafterdinner.Youshan’tsitnexteitherofthem.Youshallsitbymeandamuseme.” Dorianmurmuredagracefulcomplimentandlookedroundtheroom.Yes:itwascertainlyatediousparty.Twoofthepeoplehehadneverseenbefore,andtheothersconsistedofErnestHarrowden,oneofthosemiddle-agedmediocritiessocommoninLondonclubswhohavenoenemies,butarethoroughlydislikedbytheirfriendsLadyRuxton,anoverdressedwomanofforty-seven,withahookednose,whowasalwaystryingtogetherselfcompromised,butwassopeculiarlyplainthattohergreatdisappointmentnoonewouldeverbelieveanythingagainstherMrs.Erlynne,apushingnobody,withadelightfullispandVenetian