His host he could not discover; Mr.Frothingham must be away from home this evening; it was seldom he failed to attend Alma's concerts.

But near the front sat Mrs.Ascott Larkfield, a dazzling figure, and, at some distance, her daughter Mrs.Carnaby, no shadow of gloom upon her handsome features.

Hugh was not in sight; probably he felt in no mood for parties.

Next to Mrs.Carnaby sat 'that fellow', Cyrus Redgrave, smiling as always, and surveying the people near him from under drooping brows, his head slightly bent.

Mr.Redgrave had thin hair, but a robust moustache and a short peaked beard; his complexion was a rifle sallow; he lolled upon the chair, so that, at moments, his head all but brushed Mrs.Carnaby's shoulder.
Long before the close of the piece, Rolfe had ceased to listen, his thoughts drifting hither and hither on a turbid flood of emotion.
During the last passage--_Allegro molto leggieramente_--he felt a movement round about him as a general relief, and when, on the last note, there broke forth (familiar ambiguity) sounds of pleasure and of applause, he at once stood up.