He was visibly popular.

Even where his habits were known, there was no discrimination against him; in some cases his reputation for what was felicitously termed "gaiety" seemed a special charm.
But here, against the calm wisdom and quiet restrained humor of these women, with only that blessed Jeff and my inconspicuous self to compare with, Terry did stand out rather strong.
As "a man among men," he didn't; as a man among--I shall have to say, "females," he didn't; his intense masculinity seemed only fit complement to their intense femininity.

But here he was all out of drawing.
Moadine was a big woman, with a balanced strength that seldom showed.
Her eye was as quietly watchful as a fencer's.

She maintained a pleasant relation with her charge, but I doubt if many, even in that country, could have done as well.
He called her "Maud," amongst ourselves, and said she was "a good old soul, but a little slow"; wherein he was quite wrong.

Needless to say, he called Jeff's teacher "Java," and sometimes "Mocha," or plain "Coffee"; when specially mischievous, "Chicory," and even "Postum." But Somel rather escaped this form of humor, save for a rather forced "Some 'ell." "Don't you people have but one name ?" he asked one day, after we had been introduced to a whole group of them, all with pleasant, few-syllabled strange names, like the ones we knew.
"Oh yes," Moadine told him.