at lunch?"

"I quite forget what I said," smiled Lord Henry. "Was it all very bad?"

"Very bad indeed. In fact I consider you extremely dangerous,
and if anything happens to our good duchess, we shall all look on you
as being primarily responsible. But I should like to talk to you
about life. The generation into which I was born was tedious.
Some day, when you are tired of London, come down to Treadley and expound
to me your philosophy of pleasure over some admirable Burgundy I am
fortunate enough to possess."

"I shall be charmed. A visit to Treadley would be a great privilege.
It has a perfect host, and a perfect library."

"You will complete it," answered the old gentleman with a courteous bow.
"And now I must bid good-bye to your excellent aunt. I am due at
the Athenaeum. It is the hour when we sleep there."

"All of you, Mr. Erskine?"

"Forty of us, in forty arm-chairs. We are practising for an English Academy
of Letters."

Lord Henry laughed and rose. "I am going to the park,"
he cried.

As he was passing out of the door, Dorian Gray touched him on the arm.
"Let me come with you," he murmured.