She has received an offer.

I'm going to write and urge her to come.

I'm just dying to hear her sing." Felicia looked out of the window and was silent.

The carriage rolled on past two blocks of magnificent private residences and turned into a wide driveway under a covered passage, and the sisters hurried into the house.

It was an elegant mansion of gray stone furnished like a palace, every corner of it warm with the luxury of paintings, sculpture, art and modern refinement.
The owner of it all, Mr.Charles R.Sterling, stood before an open grate fire smoking a cigar.