He had too much tact, too much common sense, to believe himself to be the paragon which his mother thought him.

Self-conceit was not, perhaps, his greatest danger.

Had he possessed more of it, he might have been a less agreeable man, but his course before him might on that account have been the safer.

In person he was manly, tall, and fair-haired, with a square forehead, denoting intelligence rather than thought, with clear white hands, filbert nails, and a power of dressing himself in such a manner that no one should ever observe of him that his clothes were either good or bad, shabby or smart.
Such was Mark Robarts when, at the age of twenty-five, or a little more, he married Fanny Monsell.

The marriage was celebrated in his own church, for Miss Monsell had no home of her own, and had been staying for the last three months at Framley Court.