"I suppose so. And this exception we believe to be of sterling materials. We fancy it like ourselves; we imagine a sense of harmony. We think his voice gives the softest, truest promise of a heart that will never harden against us; we read in his eyes that faithful feeling--affection. I don't think we should trust to what they call passion at all, Caroline. I believe it is a mere fire of dry sticks, blazing up and vanishing. But we watch him, and see him kind to animals, to little children, to poor people. He is kind to us likewise, good, considerate. He does not flatter women, but he is patient with them, and he seems to be easy in their presence, and to find their company genial. He likes them not only for vain and selfish reasons, but as _we_ like him--because we like him. 
"I suppose so. And we fancy him to be like ourselves; we imagine a sense of harmony. We think his voice promises a heart that will never harden against us; we read faithful affection in his eyes. I don't think we should trust to what they call passion, Caroline. I believe it is a mere fire of dry sticks, blazing up and vanishing. But we see him kind to animals, to children, to poor people, and kind to us likewise, good, considerate. He does not flatter women, but he is patient with them, and seems to find their company congenial. 