th their talk,
speaking their language and mine with tones and inflections that I never
heard from two women of like position in "America."

I was reminded of this afterward when one morning, at a great house, a
country seat, I lingered with my hostess at the breakfast table after
all the rest of the family had risen. She touched a bell, and a maid, an
upper servant, answered the summons. No servants, by the way, wait at
breakfast there, even in great houses. After you are once started, and
the tea is made, you are left alone, to wait upon yourselves--a fashion
full of comfort, making breakfast the most sociable meal of the day.
When the maid appeared the lady spoke at once, and the servant stopped
at the door and replied, and there was a little dialogue about some
household matter. The young woman's answers were little more than, "Yes,
my Lady," and, "No, my Lady," but I was charmed by them--more so than I
have ever been by a lecture or a recitation from the lips of one of the
sex. She spoke in a subdued tone; but every syllable was distinct,
although she was at the further end of a large dining-room. Her
mistress's voice was no less clear and sweet and charming, and as they
talked, in their low, even tones, with perfect ease and understanding at
this distance, the whole of the great room resounded sweetly with this
spoken music. When English is spoken in this way by a woman of superior
breeding and intelligence there is, of course, an added charm, and it is
then the most delightful speech that I ever heard, or can imagine.
Compared with it, German becomes hideous and ridiculous, French mean and
snappish, Spanish too weak and open-mouthed, and even Italian, noble and
sweet as it is, seems to lack a certain firmness and crispness, and to
be without a homely charm that it may not lack to those whose mother
tongue is bastard Latin.

One reason of this beauty of the speech of Englishwomen is doubtless in
the voice itself. An Englishwoman's voice is soft, but it is not weak.
It is notably firm, clear, and vibrating. It is neither guttural nor
nasal. While it soothes the ear, it compels attention. Like the tone of
a fine old Cremona violin, its softest vibrations make themselves heard
and understood when mere noise makes only confusion. Such voices are not
entirely lacking among women in "America"; but, alas! how few of the
fortunate possessors of such voices here use them worthily! For the
other element of the beauty of th