One afternoon, a month later, Dorian Gray visited Lord Henry. Dorian was excited and his eyes were shining.
"Harry," he began, "I’m discovering life. I’m doing everything that you told me to do. I am in love."
"Who are you in love with?" asked Lord Henry calmly.
"With an actress."
"Oh, everybody’s in love with an actress at some time in their lives," said Lord Henry.
"No, Harry, this is different. She’s wonderful! Her name’s Sybil Vane, and one day she’ll be a very famous actress. She really is extraordinarily clever."
"My dear boy," said Lord Henry in his lazy voice, "no woman is extraordinarily clever. Women have nothing to say, but they say it beautifully. There are only five women in London who can give you real conversation. But tell me about your wonderful actress. How long have you known her?"
"Harry, I’ll tell you all about her, but you must promise not to laugh." Lord Henry listened and smiled. Dorian had discovered an old, dirty theatre in a poor street in London. He had gone in to look for an adventure, but had found love, he told Lord Henry. The play had been Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.
"Romeo was a fat old man with a terrible voice, but Juliet! Oh, Harry, she was about seventeen with dark brown hair and a face like a flower. She was the loveliest girl that I’d ever seen in my life, and her voice was like music. I love her, Harry. She’s everything to me. Every night I go to see her in different plays and she’s always wonderful."
"That’s the reason, I suppose, why you never have dinner with me now," said Lord Henry.
"But, Harry, you and I see each other every day – we always have lunch together," said Dorian in surprise. "I have to go and see Sybil in the theatre every night. You and Basil must come with me to see her. Then you can see yourself how wonderful she is. Come tomorrow."
"Very well, my dear Dorian, we’ll come and watch your Juliet. But you’ll be in love many times, you know – this is only the beginning."
After Dorian had gone, Lord Henry smiled to himself. How amusing it was to watch this young man, he thought. He was very different now from the frightened boy in Basil Hallward’s house. He had opened like a flower in the sun, and was learning to enjoy every pleasure in life. "And it is I," thought Lord Henry, "who have taught him how to do this."
When Lord Henry returned home that night, there was a letter for him lying on the table. It told him that Dorian Gray was going to marry Sybil Vane.