Moths by Ouida — page 136: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

192 | MOTHS. The house was grand, gorgeous, brilliant, adorned in the taste of the Second Empire, to which it belonged—glittering and over- laden, superb yet meretricious. The lines of servants were bow- ing low; the gilded gaseliers were glowing with light; there were masses of camellias and azaleas, beautiful and scentless, and heavy odors of burnt pastilles on the heated air. Vere passed up the wide staircase slowly, and the hues of its scarlet carpeting seemed like fire to her tired eyes. She changed her prison-house often, and each one had been. made more splendid than the last, but each in its turn was no less a prison, and its gilding made it but the more dreary anq@ the more oppressive to her. ‘‘You will excuse me, 1.am tired,” she murmured to her sister- in-law, who was to be her guest; and she went into her own bedchamber and shut herself in, shutting out even her maid from her solitude. Through the curtained windows there came a low, muifled sound—the sound of the great night-world of that Paris to which she had come, heralded for her beauty by a thousand tongues. ‘‘ Why could she not be happy?” She dropped on her knees by her bed of white satin, embroid- ered with garlanded roses, and let her head fall on her arms, aud wept bitterly. ; In the opera-house the curtain had risen, and the realization of all he had lost was drawing upon the vision of Faust. The voice of her husband came to her through the door. ‘Made your toilet rapidly,” he said; ‘‘ we will dine quickly; there will be time to show yourself at the opera.” Vere started and rose to her feet. ‘‘L am very tired; the journey was long.” ‘We will not stay,” answered Prince Zouroff. ‘‘ But you will show yourself. Dress quickly.” ‘* Would not another night——” ‘* Ma chere, do not dispute. Iam not used to it.” The words were slight, but the accent gave thema cold and hard command, to which she had grown accustomed. She said nothing more, but let her maid enter by aninner door. The tears were wet. on her lashes, and her mouth still quiver- ed. The woman saw and pitied her, but with some contempt. “Why do you lament like that?” the woman thought; ‘‘ why not amuse yourself?” Her maids were used to the caprices of Prince YZouroff, which made his wife's toilet a thing which must be accomplished to perfection in almost a moment of time. A very young and lovely woman, also, can be more easily adorned than one who needs a thousand artificial aids. They dressed her very rap- idly in white velvet, setting some sapphires and diamonds in her bright hair. '_ “*Give me that necklace,” she said, pointing to one of the par- titions in one of the open jewel-cases: it was the necklace of the moth and the star. In ten minutes she descended to dinner. Sheand her husband } ——— were alone, Madanie Nelaguine had gone to bed fatigued. comicbooks (ele) —— = *. ‘we . , ‘ -