And now for the first time Christian saw what her husband was "in
society."

Next to a bad man or a fool, of all things most detestable is "a man of
society;" a brilliant, showy person, who gathers round him a knot of
listeners, to whom his one object is to exhibit himself. But it is no
small advantage for a man, even a clever or learned man, to feel and
appear at home in any company; to be neither eccentric, nor proud nor
shy; to have a pleasant word or smile for every body both; to seem and
to be occupied with other people instead of with himself, and with what
other people are thinking about him; in short, a frank, kindly, natural
gentleman, so sure both of his position and himself that he takes no
trouble in the assertion of either, but simply devotes himself to making
all about him as comfortable and happy as he can. And this was Dr.
Arnold Grey.

He talked little and not brilliantly, but he knew how to make other
people talk. By some subtle, fine essence in his own nature, he seemed
to extract the best aroma from every other; and better than most
conversation was it to look at his kindly, earnest, listening face, as, in
the pauses of politeness, Christian did look more than once; and a thrill
shot through her, the consciousness, dear to every woman, of being
proud of her husband. Ay, whether she loved him, or not, she was
certainly proud of him.

In all good hearts, love's root is in goodness. Deeper than even love
itself is that ideal sense of being satisfied--satisfied in all one's moral
nature, in the craving of one's soul after what seems nearest perfection.
And though in many cases poor human hearts are so weak, or strong--