While through the open windows, the departing twilight mingled its soft duskiness with the splendors of the mimic day.
Ernest Linwood and Richard Clyde were standing near the entrance of the door to greet us.

The former immediately advanced and gave me his arm, and Richard walked by the side of Edith.

I heard him sigh as they fell behind us, and my heart echoed the sound.

Yet how could he sigh with Edith at his side?
As I walked through the illuminated drawing-room, escorted by one on whom the eyes of the fashionable world were eagerly bent, I could not help being conscious of the glances that darted on me from every direction.

Ernest Linwood was the loadstar of the scene, and whoever he distinguished by his attention must be conspicuous by association.