Of course
word had spread that the beautiful Miss Winship was expected.
It was almost in a dream that I stood before Mrs. Henry Van Dam--a short,
heavy woman, in purple velvet, flashing with diamonds. Without a vestige
of awkwardness or timidity I answered her effusive welcome, and the
greetings of her grayish wisp of a husband, and of Mr. and Mrs. Marmaduke
Van Dam--both thin and grave; her neck cords standing out under her
diamond collar. And of little Mr. Robert Van Dam. And of Mr. Bellmer--a
pink, young, plump thing, all white waistcoat and bald head, just as I
remembered him at the Opera.
I held a reception of my own. I did it easily. After the first moments
Ned's presence excited me. I was always conscious of his nearness; I felt
that whether I talked or was silent--though I was never allowed to be
that--to whatever part of the room he went, his glowing eyes never left
me. And there came to me a thrilling confidence that he understood. He
knew that to me all these people were so much lace, so many blotches of
white complexion, so many pincushions of silk or lustrous satin stuck
through with jewels.
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