CHAPTER XIX.

“Thereisnouseyourtellingmethatyouaregoingtobegood,”criedLordHenry,dippinghiswhitefingersintoaredcopperbowlfilledwithrose-water.“Youarequiteperfect.Pray,don’tchange.” DorianGrayshookhishead.“No,Harry,Ihavedonetoomanydreadfulthingsinmylife.Iamnotgoingtodoanymore.Ibeganmygoodactionsyesterday.” “Wherewereyouyesterday?” “Inthecountry,Harry.Iwasstayingatalittleinnbymyself.” “Mydearboy,”saidLordHenry,smiling,“anybodycanbegoodinthecountry.Therearenotemptationsthere.Thatisthereasonwhypeoplewholiveoutoftownaresoabsolutelyuncivilized.Civilizationisnotbyanymeansaneasythingtoattainto.Thereareonlytwowaysbywhichmancanreachit.Oneisbybeingcultured,theotherbybeingcorrupt.Countrypeoplehavenoopportunityofbeingeither,sotheystagnate.” “Cultureandcorruption,”echoedDorian.“Ihaveknownsomethingofboth.Itseemsterribletomenowthattheyshouldeverbefoundtogether.ForIhaveanewideal,Harry.Iamgoingtoalter.IthinkIhavealtered.” “Youhavenotyettoldmewhatyourgoodactionwas.Ordidyousayyouhaddonemorethanone?”askedhiscompanionashespilledintohisplatealittlecrimsonpyramidofseededstrawberriesand,throughaperforated,shell-shapedspoon,snowedwhitesugaruponthem. “Icantellyou,Harry.ItisnotastoryIcouldtelltoanyoneelse.Isparedsomebody.Itsoundsvain,butyouunderstandwhatImean.ShewasquitebeautifulandwonderfullylikeSibylVane.Ithinkitwasthatwhichfirstattractedmetoher.YourememberSibyl,don’tyou?Howlongagothatseems!Well,Hettywasnotoneofourownclass,ofcourse.Shewassimplyagirlinavillage.ButIreallylovedher.IamquitesurethatIlovedher.AllduringthiswonderfulMaythatwehavebeenhaving,Iusedtorundownandseehertwoorthreetimesaweek.Yesterdayshemetmeinalittleorchard.Theapple-blossomskepttumblingdownonherhair,andshewaslaughing.Weweretohavegoneawaytogetherthismorningatdawn.SuddenlyIdeterminedtoleaveherasflowerlikeasIhadfoundher.” “Ishouldthinkthenoveltyoftheemotionmusthavegivenyouathrillofrealpleasure,Dorian,”interruptedLordHenry.“ButIcanfinishyouridyllforyou.Yougavehergoodadviceandbrokeherheart.Thatwasthebeginningofyourreformation.” “Harry,youarehorrible!Youmustn’tsaythesedreadfulthings.Hetty’sheartisnotbroken.Ofcourse,shecriedandallthat.Butthereisnodisgraceuponher.Shecanlive,likePerdita,inhergardenofmintandmarigold.” “AndweepoverafaithlessFlorizel,”saidLordHenry,laughing,asheleanedbackinhischair.“MydearDorian,youhavethemostcuriouslyboyishmoods.Doyouthinkthisgirlwilleverbereallycontentnowwithanyoneofherownrank?Isupposeshewillbemarriedsomedaytoaroughcarteroragrinningploughman.Well,thefactofhavingmetyou,andlovedyou,willteachhertodespiseherhusband,andshewillbewretched.Fromamoralpointofview,IcannotsaythatIthinkmuchofyourgreatrenunciation.Evenasabeginning,itispoor.Besides,howdoyouknowthatHettyisn’tfloatingatthepresentmomentinsomestarlitmill-pond,withlovelywater-liliesroundher,likeOphelia?” “Ican’tbearthis,Harry!Youmockateverything,andthensuggestthemostserioustragedies.IamsorryItoldyounow.Idon’tcarewhatyousaytome.IknowIwasrightinactingasIdid.PoorHetty!AsIrodepastthefarmthismorning,Isawherwhitefaceatthewindow,likeasprayofjasmine.Don’tletustalkaboutitanymore,anddon’ttrytopersuademethatthefirstgoodactionIhavedoneforyears,thefirs