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He took up froold texture that covered it, and, holding it in his hands, passed behind the screen Was the face on the canvas viler than before? It see of it was intensified Gold hair, blue eyes, and rose-red lips--they all were there It was simply the expression that had altered That was horrible in its cruelty Compared to what he saw in it of censure or rebuke, how shallow Basil's reproaches about Sibyl Vane had been!--how shallow, and of what little account! His own soul was looking out at hie the rich pall over the picture As he did so, a knock came to the door He passed out as his servant entered

"The persons are here, Monsieur"

He felt that the ot rid of at once Hetaken to There was sohtful, treacherous eyes Sitting down at the writing-table he scribbled a note to Lord Henry, asking hi hi

"Wait for an answer," he said, handing it to him, "and show the men in here"

In two or three minutes there was another knock, and Mr Hubbard himself, the celebrated frah-looking young assistant Mr Hubbard was a florid, red-whiskered little man, whose admiration for art was considerably tempered by the inveterate impecuniosity of most of the artists who dealt with him As a rule, he never left his shop He waited for people to come to him But he always made an exception in favour of Dorian Gray There was so about Dorian that charmed everybody It was a pleasure even to see him

"What can I do for you, Mr Gray?" he said, rubbing his fat freckled hands "I thought I would do ot a beauty of a frame, sir Picked it up at a sale Old Florentine Caious subject, Mr Gray"

"I a round, Mr Hubbard I shall certainly drop in and look at the fraious art--but to-day I only want a picture carried to the top of the house for ht I would ask you to lend me a couple of your men"

"No trouble at all, Mr Gray I ahted to be of any service to you Which is the work of art, sir?"

"This," replied Dorian,and all, just as it is? I don't want it to get scratched going upstairs"

"There will be no difficulty, sir," said the genial fra, with the aid of his assistant, to unhook the picture fro brass chains by which it was suspended "And, nohere shall we carry it to, Mr Gray?"

"I will show you the way, Mr Hubbard, if you will kindly follow o in front I ao up by the front staircase, as it is wider"

He held the door open for thean the ascent The elaborate character of the frame had made the picture extremely bulky, and now and then, in spite of the obsequious protests of Mr Hubbard, who had the true trades useful, Dorian put his hand to it so as to help them

"Soasped the littleAnd he wiped his shiny forehead

"I am afraid it is rather heavy," murmured Dorian as he unlocked the door that opened into the room that was to keep for him the curious secret of his life and hide his soul from the eyes of men

He had not entered the place for more than four years--not, indeed, since he had used it first as a play-roorew soe, well-proportioned room, which had been specially built by the last Lord Kelso for the use of the little grandson whoe likeness to his mother, and also for other reasons, he had always hated and desired to keep at a distance It appeared to Dorian to have but little changed There was the huge Italian cassone, with its fantastically painted panels and its tarnished gilt s, in which he had so often hidden himself as a boy There the satinwood book-case filled with his dog-eared schoolbooks On the wall behind it was hanging the sa and queen were playing chess in a garden, while a coauntleted wrists Hoell he remembered it all! Every moment of his lonely childhood came back to him as he looked round He recalled the stainless purity of his boyish life, and it seemed horrible to him that it was here the fatal portrait was to be hidden away How little he had thought, in those dead days, of all that was in store for him!

But there was no other place in the house so secure fro eyes as this He had the key, and no one else could enter it Beneath its purple pall, the face painted on the canvas could grow bestial, sodden, and unclean What did it matter? No one could see it He himself would not see it Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his soul? He kept his youth--that was enough And, besides, row finer, after all? There was no reason that the future should be so full of shaht come across his life, and purify him, and shield hi in spirit and in flesh--those curious unpictured sins whose very mystery lent them their subtlety and their charm Perhaps, some day, the cruel look would have passed away froht show to the world Basil Hallward's masterpiece

No; that was i upon the canvas was growing old It e was in store for it The cheeks would become hollow or flaccid Yello's feet would creep round the fading eyes and htness, the ross, as the mouths of old men are There would be the wrinkled throat, the cold, blue-veined hands, the twisted body, that he rerandfather who had been so stern to him in his boyhood The picture had to be concealed There was no help for it

"Bring it in, Mr Hubbard, please," he said, wearily, turning round "I a else"

"Always glad to have a rest, Mr Gray," answered the fra for breath "Where shall we put it, sir?"