Ladies in elaborate evening gowns passed out with their escorts to the opera, or waited for the carriages that were to take them later to balls or receptions.
Everywhere there was the gleam of white shoulders, the nodding of jewelled aigrettes, the flashing of diamond tiaras.

Above it all rose the odour of flowers, the hum of voices, and the music of violins.
Mr.Forbes, smiling through half-closed eyelids at this passing of Vanity Fair, looked down at Eugenia.

She was leaning forward in a picturesque pose against the arm of her high-backed chair.

The light fell softly on her pale yellow gown and her dusky hair.

The red lips were parted in a smile as she watched the pretty pageant, and there was a bright colour in her cheeks.
Mr.Forbes was proud of his handsome little daughter.