Moths by Ouida — page 224: what you’re looking at

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

220 Leal MOTHS. He remained always 2 mountaineer at heart. The gray still ness and mist of the daybreak, the familiar smell of the pine boughs, the innocent forest creatures that ran or flew before his feet, the gleam of snow on the peaks in the distance, the very moss at his feet bright with dew, all were delightful to him and brought his boyhood back to him. Yet his heart was heavy because he had seen the woman he could have loved; indeed, he could no\longer deny to himself that he did love her, and yet knew very well that she was as utterly lost to him as though she had been a wraith of the mountain snow that would vanish at touch of the sunrise. All things were well with him, and Fortune spoiled him, as he had said. As he sat at breakfast in the wide sunny window, and opened his ‘ Figaro,” heread of the affection of Paris for him, the regret of a world which has, like a beautiful woman, so many to teach it forgetfulness, that any remembrance in absence is unusual homage. A courtier brought him from the court a silver casket of old niello work inJaid with precious stones, and having a miniature of Penicaud in the lid, and, what he cared for more, a bidding from the Kaiser to hunt chamois among the ice-peaks of the Dachstein at daybreak on the morrow. The post arriving brought him little scented letters which told him, in language more or less welcome, that the universal regret of the many was shared in deeper and tenderer sentiment by the few; and some of these could not fail to charm his vanity, if they failed to touch his heart. Yet he had not much vanity, ana he was used to all these favors of. peoples, of sovereigns, of beauties. They rained on him as rose-leaves rain on grass in midsummer; and it was the height of summer with him, and none of his rose-leaves w-ce faded. Still—— **T ought to go,” he thought, and that thought absorbed him. He discerned the influence his presence had on Vere. He knew too well his power on women to mistake its exercise. Hesaw what she had not seen herself; he had long endeavored to xvoid her; he had often feared for them both, the moment when the - accidents of society should bring them in contact. No vanity and noselfishness moved him; but an infinite compassion stirred in him, and an infinite sorrow. «: “If I let myself love her, my life will be ruined. She will never be as others have been. There will be nothing between us ever except an immense regret.” So he thought as he sat look- mg out on the sunshine that played on the silverand gold of the Emperor’s casket. 2 At that moment they brought him from Madame de Sonnaz 4 note bidding him to dine with her that night. . Correze penned in reply a graceful excuse, pleading that he was to set out for the Dachstein at nightfall. ‘Who shall say that we need Nihilism,” he wrote, in conclusion, ‘‘ when a public singer scales ice-peaks with a Kaiser.” | His answer dispatched, he lit another cigar, and watched the Traun water gleam under the old gray arches of the bridge.