ft charm of the Englishwoman's manner is greatly helped and
heightened by her voice and her manner of speaking. In these she is not
only without an equal, but beyond comparison with the women of any other
people, except the few of her own blood and tongue in this country, who
have like voices and the same utterance. The voices and the speech of
Englishwomen of all classes are, with few exceptions, pleasant to the
ear--soft and clear; their words are well articulated, but not precisely
pronounced. They speak without much emphasis, yet not monotonously, but
with gentle modulation. Their speech is therefore very easily
understood--much more so than that of persons who speak louder and with
stronger emphasis. You rarely or never are obliged to ask an
Englishwoman to repeat what she has said because you have failed to
catch her words. This soft, yet crisp and clear and easily flowing
speech, is, as I have said, common to the whole sex there.

I remember that in one of my prowlings about London I found myself in a
little, dingy court that opened off Thames street--a low, water-side
street that runs under London Bridge. It was Sunday morning, and I had
come down from Charing Cross in one of the little Thames steamers, to
attend service at St. Paul's, and had half an hour to spare. The street
was almost deserted, and so quiet that my footsteps echoed from the
walls of the dull and smoke-browned houses. In this court I found two
women talking. One was Sairey Gamp. I am sure it was Sairey. The leer
upon her heavy face could not be mistaken, and she had grown even a
little stouter than when I was so happy as to make her acquaintance
years ago. The other was probably Betsey Prig; she was a mere wisp of a
woman; or, indeed, she may have been Mrs. Harris herself--her
shadow-like figure being the next thing in woman form to nonentity. As I
passed these two humble people, I was struck by the tone and manner of
their speech as they talked earnestly together. Their words and their
pronunciation were vulgar enough; but, as a whole, the speech of both
was rich and musical. The whole of that otherwise silent court was
filled with the soft murmur of their voices. I had no business there,
but I pretended to have, and went from dingy door to dingy door,
lingering and loitering all round the court, that I might listen. They
did not stare at me any more than I did at them--plainly, they would not
have thought of such rudeness--but they went on wi