When the English family barometer is at “set fair,” the atmosphere is delightful, and there is no more charming or sympathetic friendship possible than that between an English mother and her children, when each looks kindly upon the other with the eye of perfect understanding, in mutual pride and love and tolerance. No distance breaks the bond nor does the lapse of time weaken it, and the mother, seeing the runners to whom she has handed on the torch settling into a steady stride, can enjoy contented the sunset of motherhood and matrimony, with the prospect of assuming a benevolent grandmotherhood that will enable her to spoil her children’s children without paying the consequences. CHAPTER VI THE ENGLISHWOMAN’S MIND Nobody could fail to be impressed by the physical beauty of young Englishwomen. It is confined to no class, though better preserved in the more leisurely. The ball-room and the village green compete easily with any exhibition of it on the stage. The question now to be presented is whether an honest observer, presuming him competent to observe, would be equally impressed with the mental qualities of our women. The answer, I think, would be extremely doubtful. Our young beauties, in any case, proudly conscious of their triumph in the physical test, would be indifferent to the outcome of the intellectual, if they could even conceive that anyone would be foolish enough to apply it. A quick brain is not in England regarded as an enviable possession, which proves it not to be a national one. In his penetrating first chapter to “Diana of the Crossways” George Meredith pointed out that "English men and women feel toward the quick-witted of their species as to aliens—having the demerits of aliens—wordiness, vanity, shallowness, an empty glitter, the sin of posturing." He might have added that, so far as women are concerned, quick wits were only excused by absence of physical attraction, though he implied this addition in his picture of Diana Warwick in her conflict with public opinion. George du Maurier contrasted with evident approbation the beauty of young Vere-de-Veredom with the consoling hideousness of the three clever Miss Bilderbogies, translating thus into art a thoroughly English point of view. One can respect this point of view without adopting it: the British instinct for safety is illustrated by it. Englishmen may well be suspicious, and Englishwomen jealous, of the combination of beauty and brains: it is too overwhelmingly powerful and likely to be disturbing to the peace.