n or knowledge." She may
be perfectly able to hold her own under any circumstances, but she has
little of that detestable quality which we call "knowing." The
immortal Daisy Miller is a charming illustration of this. I used
sometimes to get into trouble with American ladies, who "hoped I did
not take Daisy Miller as a type of the average American girl," by
assuring them that "I did not--that I thought her much too good for
that." And in truth there seemed to me a lack of subtlety in the
current appreciation of the charming young lady from Schenectady, who
is much _finer_ than many readers give her credit for. And on this
point I think I may cite Mr. Henry James himself as a witness on my
side, since, in a dramatic version of the tale published in the
_Atlantic Monthly_ (Vol. 51, 1883), he makes his immaculate Bostonian,
Mr. Winterbourne, marry Daisy with a full consciousness of all she was
and had been. As I understand her, Miss Daisy Miller, in spite of her
somewhat unpropitious early surroundings, was a young woman entirely
able to appreciate the very best when she met it. She at once
recognised the superiority of Winterbourne to the men she had hitherto
known, and she also recognised that her "style" was not the "style" of
him or of his associates. But she was very young, and had all the
unreasonable pride of extreme youth; and so she determined not to
alter her behaviour one jot or tittle in order to attract him--nay,
with a sort of bravado, she exaggerated those very traits which she
knew he disliked. Yet all the time she had the highest appreciation of
his most delicate refinements, while she felt also that he ought to
see that at bottom she was just as refined as he, though her outward
mask was not so elegant. I have no doubt whatever that, as Mrs.
Winterbourne, she adapted herself to her new _milieu_ with absolute
success, and yet without loss of her own most fascinating
individuality.[8]

The whole atmosphere of the country tends to preserve the spirit of
unsuspecting innocence in the American maiden. The function of a
chaperon is very differently interpreted in the United States and in
England. On one occasion I met in a Pullman car a young lady
travelling in charge of her governess. A chance conversation elicited
the fact that she was the daughter of a well-known New York banker;
and the fact that we had some mutual acquaintances was accepted as
all-sufficing credentials for my respectability. We had happene