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"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."