In English country ladies there is this point to be remarked. Whether young or old, pretty or plain, dull or sprightly, they all (or almost all) have a certain expression stamped on their features, which seems to say, "I know--I do not boast of it, but I _know_ that I am the standard of what is proper; let every one therefore whom I approach, or who approaches me, keep a sharp lookout, for wherein they differ from me--be the same in dress, manner, opinion, principle, or practice--therein they are wrong."
Mrs. and Misses Sykes, far from being exceptions to this observation, were pointed illustrations of its truth. Miss Mary--a well-looked, well-meant, and, on the whole, well-dispositioned girl--wore her complacency with some state, though without harshness. Miss Harriet--a beauty--carried it more overbearingly; she looked high and cold. Miss Hannah, who was conceited, dashing, pushing, flourished hers consciously and openly. The mother evinced it with the gravity proper to her age and religious fame.

English country ladies, whether young or old, pretty or plain, almost all have a certain expression stamped on their features, which seems to say, "I know - I do not boast of it, but I know that I am the standard of what is proper; let everyone else, therefore, keep a sharp lookout, for if they differ from me in dress, opinion or anything else, then they are wrong."
Mrs. and Misses Sykes were illustrations of this. Miss Mary - a well-looking, well-meaning girl - wore her complacency with some state, though without harshness. Miss Harriet - a beauty - carried it more overbearingly; she looked high and cold. Miss Hannah, who was conceited, dashing and pushing, flourished hers openly. The mother showed it with the gravity proper to her age.
