Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1896-08-15

romance by trying to make 1t last forever.
! is a meaningless word. toe. The only
in1erence between a caprice and q lifelong
passion Is that the caprice lasts q little
longer"
As they entered the studio, Dorian Gray
put his hand upon Lord Henry's arm. 'In
mat case, let our friendship DO a caprice"
ne murmured, blushing at his own boldness,
then stepped up IN the platform and re-
'umed his pose.
Lord Henry flung himself into a largo
wicker armchair, and watched him. The
sweep and dash OF the brush on the canvas
made the only sound that broke the still
ness, except when Hallward stepped back
now and then 10 look ut his work from a
distance. In the s~lanting beams that
'treamcd through the open doorway the
lust danced and was golden. The heavy
scent OF the roses seemed TO brood over
everything.
After about a quarter Of an hour. Hall
ward stopped painting, looked for a long
time mt Dorian Gray, and then for a long
tilne at the picture, biting the end Of one of
his huge brushes, aud smiling. at Is quite
hnished," he cried, at last, and STOPPING
down he wrote his name in thin vermillion
letters on the left-hand corner Of the can
vas.
Lord Henry came over and examined the
picture. IL was certainly a wonderful
work OF art, and Il wonderful likeness as
well.
MY dear fellow, I congratulate you most
warmly" he said. mir. Gray, come and
look at yourself"
The lad started, as II awakened out Of a
! dream. SIS it really fnishedw he MUIR
murcd, stepping down from the platform.
''Quitc finished" said Hallward. "And
you have sat splendidly to-day. I am aw-
fully obliged TO you"
THAT is entirely due TO me, =" broke In Lord
Henry. 'Isn't it, Mr.. Grayw
Dorian made nc answer, but passed list
lessly in front Of his picture and turned
toward II. When he saw It he drew back,
and his cheeks flushed for u moment with
pleasure. A look of JOY came into his eyes,
az if he recognized himself for the first time.
He stood there motionlcss. and in wonder,
dimly conscious that Hallward was speak
Ing TO him, but not catching tho meaning Of
his words, The sense of his own beauty
came on him like a revelation. He had
never felt il before. Basil Hallward's COM
pliments had seemed TO him to be merely
the charming exaggerations Of friendship.
He had listened 10 them, laughed at thom,
forgotten them. They had not Influenced
his nature. Then had come Lord Henry,
with his strange panegyric on youth, his
terrible warning of Its brevity. That had
stirred him at the timo, and now, az he stood
gazing at the shadow Of his own loneliness,
tho full reality OF tho description flashed
across him. Yes, there would be n day
when his face would be wrinkled and wien,
his eyes dim and colorless, the grace Of his
figure broken and deformod. The scarlet
would pass from his lips, and the gold steal
from his hair. The lifo that was TO make
his soul would mar his body. He would be-
come ignoble, hideous. and uncouth.
AS he thought Of it, a sharp pang of pain
struck like a knife across him, and made
each delicate fiber of his nature culver. His
eyes d~eepened into amethyst, and a mist Of
tears came across them. He felt as IL q
hand of ice had been laid upon his heart.
Don't you like III" cried Hallward at
last, stung u little by the lads silence, and
not understanding what IL meant.
"Of course he likes it" said Lord Henry.
"Who wouldn't like itl II IA one OF the
greatest things in modern art. | will Civ
you anything you like TO ask for 1t. l must
have it,"
ut is not my property, Harry"
Whose property is iti"
"Dorian's, of course"
III is a very lucky fellow"
"How sad it is" murmured Dorian Gray,
with his eyes still fixed upon his own por
! trait. "How sad 1t isl l shall grow old,
and horrid, and dreadful. But this picture
will remain always young, 1t will never be
older than this particular day of June. II II
was only the other way If it was / who
were to be always young, and the picture
that were to grow oldl For this-for this
! would give everythingl Yes, there L.
nothing in the world / would not givel"
"You would hardly care for that arrange.
ment, Basil" cried Lord Henry laughing.
at would DC rather hard lines on you"
81 should object very strongly, Harry"
Dorian Gray turned and looked at him.
81 believe you would, Basil. You like your
art better than your friends. / am no more
than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much,
/ dare say"
Hallward stared in amazement. 1t was sc
unlike Dorian 10 speak like that. What had
happencdi He seemed almost angry. His
face was flushed and his cheeks burning.
Yes" he continued, ~ am less TO you
than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun.
You will like them always. How long will
you like moi Till ] have my first wrinkle, ]
suppose. ! know now, that when one loses
ones good looks, whatever they may be, one
loses Cyorything. Your picture has taught
me that. Lord Henry is perfectly right.
Youth is the only thing worth having.
When ! find hat | am growing old, l will
kill myself"
Hallward turned pale, and caught his
hand. Dorian Dorian" he cried, 'don't
talk like that. ] have never had such o
friend as you, and / shall never have such
another. You are not jealous Of material
things, are youF
IL am jealous Of everything whose beauty
does not die, | am jealous Of the portrait you
have painted Of mo. Why should IL keep
what l must losel Every moment that
passes takes something from me, and gives
something to it. oh, il it was only the other
way II the picture could change, and ]
could be always what / am nowl Why did
you paint iti II will mock me some day
mock me horribly !" The hot tears welled
nto his eyes; he tore his land away, and
finging himself on the divan, he buried his
face in the cushions, as If he was praying.
"This is your doing, Harry" said Hall.
ward, bitterly.
my doingl"
Eyes, yours, and you know IT,"
Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. 81,
Is the real Dorian Gray-that is all, " he an.
swered.
at Is not"
"If it is not what have / TO do with III"
"You should have gone away WHEN / asked
you"
81 stayed when you asked me-"
Harry, 1 can't quarrel with my two best
friends at once, but between you both yor
have made me hate the finest piece Of work
| have ever done, and l will destroy it
What is it but canvas and colorl l will MOI
let it come across our three lives and mai
them"
Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from
the pillow, and looked at him with palliC
face and tear-stained eyes, as he walket
over to the deal p~ainting-table that was Sc
beneath the large curtained window. VIVA
was he doing therei His fingers were stray
ing about among tho litter of tin tubes ant
dry brushes, seeking for something. Yes
1t was the long palette-knifc, with its thir
blade Of 1.-the steel. He had found IL at last