"I wish you would sing to us again, Miss Harleth," said young Clintock, the archdeacon's classical son, who had been so fortunate as to take her to dinner, and came up to renew conversation as soon as Herr Klesmer's performance was ended, "That is the style of music for me. I never can make anything of this tip-top playing. It is like a jar of leeches, where you can never tell either beginnings or endings. I could listen to your singing all day."
"Yes, we should be glad of something popular now--another song from you would be a relaxation," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, who had also come near with polite intentions.
"That must be because you are in a puerile state of culture, and have no breadth of horizon. I have just learned that. I have been taught how bad my taste is, and am feeling growing pains. They are never pleasant," said Gwendolen, not taking any notice of Mrs. Arrowpoint, and looking up with a bright smile at young Clintock.
Mrs. Arrowpoint was not insensible to this rudeness, but merely said, "Well, we will not press anything disagreeably," and as there was a perceptible outburst of imprisoned conversation just then, and a movement of guests seeking each other, she remained seated where she was, and looked around her with the relief of a hostess at finding she is not needed.

"I wish you would sing to us again, Miss Harleth," said Clintock, the Archdeacon's son, as soon as Herr Klesmer's performance was ended. "That is the style of music for me. I never can make anything of this tip-top playing, but I could listen to your singing all day."
"Yes, we should be glad of something popular now - another song from you would be a relaxation," said Mrs. Arrowpoint politely.
"That must be because you have no breadth of horizon. I have just been taught how bad my taste is, and am feeling growing pains. They are never pleasant," said Gwendolen, ignoring Mrs. Arrowpoint, and smiling at young Clintock.
Mrs. Arrowpoint was not insensible to this rudeness, but merely said, "Well, we will not press you."
