His comprehension of human nature was too catholic
very readily to permit him impressions either of wonder
or contempt--it would have been a matter of registration
and a smile. Realizing this, Kendal was the more at a
loss to explain to himself the feeling of irritation
which the recollection of the scene persistently aroused
in him, in spite of a pronounced disposition, of which
he could not help being aware, not to register it but to
ignore it. His memory refused to be a party to his
intention, and the tableau recurred to him with a
persistence which he found distinctly disagreeable. Upon
every social occasion which brought young ladies of beauty
and middle-aged gentlemen of impressive eminence into
conversational contact he saw the thing in imagination
done again. In the end it suggested itself to him as
paintable--the astonished drawing-room, the graceful
half-kneeling girl with the bent head, the other dismayed
and uncomprehending figure yielding a doubtful hand, his
discomfort indicated in the very lines of his waistcoat.
"_A Fin de Siecle Tribute_," Kendal named it. He dismissed
the idea as absurd, and then reconsidered it as a means
of disposing of the incident finally.
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