In fact, Gwendolen, not intending it, but intending the contrary, had offended her hostess, who, though not a splenetic or vindictive woman, had her susceptibilities. Several conditions had met in the Lady of Quetcham which to the reasoners in that neighborhood seemed to have an essential connection with each other. It was occasionally recalled that she had been the heiress of a fortune gained by some moist or dry business in the city, in order fully to account for her having a squat figure, a harsh parrot-like voice, and a systematically high head-dress; and since these points made her externally rather ridiculous, it appeared to many only natural that she should have what are called literary tendencies. A little comparison would have shown that all these points are to be found apart; daughters of aldermen being often well-grown and well-featured, pretty women having sometimes harsh or husky voices, and the production of feeble literature being found compatible with the most diverse forms of _physique_, masculine as well as feminine.
Gwendolen, who had a keen sense of absurdity in others, but was kindly disposed toward any one who could make life agreeable to her, meant to win Mrs. Arrowpoint by giving her an interest and attention beyond what others were probably inclined to show. But self-confidence is apt to address itself to an imaginary dullness in others; as people who are well off speak in a cajoling tone to the poor, and those who are in the prime of life raise their voice and talk artificially to seniors, hastily conceiving them to be deaf and rather imbecile. Gwendolen, with all her cleverness and purpose to be agreeable, could not escape that form of stupidity: it followed in her mind, unreflectingly, that because Mrs. Arrowpoint was ridiculous she was also likely to be wanting in penetration, and she went through her little scenes without suspicion that the various shades of her behavior were all noted.
"You are fond of books as well as of music, riding, and archery, I hear," Mrs. Arrowpoint said, going to her for a _tete--tete_ in the drawing-room after dinner. "Catherine will be very glad to have so sympathetic a neighbor." This little speech might have seemed the most graceful politeness, spoken in a low, melodious tone; but with a twang, fatally loud, it gave Gwendolen a sense of exercising patronage when she answered, gracefully:

In fact, Gwendolen had unintentionally offended her hostess. The lady of Quetcham had a squat figure, a harsh parrot-like voice, and a high head-dress; and since these points made her appear rather ridiculous, it seemed only natural that she should have literary tendencies.
Gwendolen, who was kindly disposed toward anyone who could make life agreeable to her, meant to win Mrs. Arrowpoint by showing her more interest and attention than other people were likely to. But self-confidence is apt to imagine dullness in others; as people who are well off speak in a cajoling tone to the poor, and the young raise their voice and talk artificially to seniors, assuming them to be deaf and slow. Gwendolen, with all her cleverness, could not escape that form of stupidity: she thought, unreflectingly, that because Mrs. Arrowpoint was ridiculous she was also likely to be lacking in penetration, and she went through her little scenes without suspicion that her behaviour was noted.
"You are fond of books, I hear," Mrs. Arrowpoint said to her after dinner. "Catherine will be very glad to have so sympathetic a neighbour." This little speech might have seemed gracefully polite if spoken in a low, melodious tone; but with a twang, fatally loud, it gave Gwendolen a sense of exercising patronage when she answered:
