an atmosphere too circumscribed, to be understood or appreciated by
American readers.

No one can please everybody; I suppose that no one, except the old man
in Aesop's Fable, ever tried to do so. But I venture to believe that
to some Americans, a sincere and truthful portrait of a typical
Englishwoman of a certain class may prove attractive, as to us are the
studies of a "David Harum," or others whose characteristics interest
because--and not in spite of--their strangeness and unfamiliarity. We
do not recognise the type; but as those who do have acknowledged the
accuracy of the representation, we read, learn, and enjoy making
acquaintance with an individuality and surroundings foreign to our own
experience.

There are hundreds of Englishwomen living lives as isolated, as
guarded from all practical knowledge of the outer world, as entirely
circumscribed as the life of Lady Mary Crewys; though they are not all
unhappy. On the contrary, many diffuse content and kindness all around
them, and take it for granted that their own personal wishes are of no
account.

Indeed it would seem that some cease to be aware what their own
personal wishes are.

With anxious eyes fixed on others--the husband, father, sons, who
dominate them,--they live to please, to serve, to nurse, and to
console; revered certainly as queens of their tiny kingdoms, but also
helpless as prisoners.

Calm, as fixed stars, they regard (perhaps sometimes a little