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CHAPTER XVII . A week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby Royal , talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth , who with her husband , a jaded - looking man of sixty , was amongst his guests . It was tea - time , and the mellow light of the huge , lace - covered lamp that stood on the table lit up the delicate china and hammered silver of the service at which the duchess was presiding . Her white hands were moving daintily among the cups , and her full red lips were smiling at something that Dorian had whispered to her . Lord Henry was lying back in a silk - draped wicker chair , looking at them . On a peach - coloured divan sat Lady Narborough , pretending to listen to the duke’s description of the last Brazilian beetle that he had added to his collection . Three young men in elaborate smoking - suits were handing tea - cakes to some of the women . The house - party consisted of twelve people , and there were more expected to arrive on the next day . “ What are you two talking about ? ” said Lord Henry , strolling over to the table and putting his cup down . “ I hope Dorian has told you about my plan for rechristening everything , Gladys . It is a delightful idea . ” “ But I don’t want to be rechristened , Harry , ” rejoined the duchess , looking up at him with her wonderful eyes . “ I am quite satisfied with my own name , and I am sure Mr . Gray should be satisfied with his . ” “ My dear Gladys , I would not alter either name for the world . They are both perfect . I was thinking chiefly of flowers . Yesterday I cut an orchid , for my button - hole . It was a marvellous spotted thing , as effective as the seven deadly sins . In a thoughtless moment I asked one of the gardeners what it was called . He told me it was a fine specimen of Robinsoniana , or something dreadful of that kind . It is a sad truth , but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things . Names are everything . I never quarrel with actions . My one quarrel is with words . That is the reason I hate vulgar realism in literature . The man who could call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one . It is the only thing he is fit for . ” “ Then what should we call you , Harry ? ” she asked . “ His name is Prince Paradox , ” said Dorian . “ I recognize him in a flash , ” exclaimed the duchess . “ I won’t hear of it , ” laughed Lord Henry , sinking into a chair . “ From a label there is no escape ! I refuse the title . ” “ Royalties may not abdicate , ” fell as a warning from pretty lips . “ You wish me to defend my throne , then ? ” “ Yes . ” “ I give the truths of to - morrow . ” “ I prefer the mistakes of to - day , ” she answered . “ You disarm me , Gladys , ” he cried , catching the wilfulness of her mood . “ Of your shield , Harry , not of your spear . ” “ I never tilt against beauty , ” he said , with a wave of his hand . “ That is your error , Harry , believe me . You value beauty far too much . ”
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