Moths by Ouida — page 330: what you’re looking at

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

$06 MOTHS. ‘vould she hear the voice that had first come to her ear on those shores—never again, except in some crowded salon or across some public theater. She shuddered, and went withm. The silence and the solitude were too like her destiny not to hurt her more than even the ‘vain laughter of fools.” It was the first time t-at the peace of nature and of night seemed a repreach to bk: For, though innocent of any act unworthy or disloyal to herseli, cue felt guilty ; she felt as if some poison had fallen in that golden cup which she strove to keep pure. To her a thought, a desire, a regret were forbidden things, since she was the wife of Sergius Zourofi. One glass door was open, and some lamps were burning, for the servants had seen that she remained on the terrace, and two or three of them, yawning and sleepy, stood in the antechambers waiting her entrance. She went up the staircase, past those bronze negroes, with their golden torches, which had lighted her childish steps on her first night at Felicite. There were two ways to her own chamber. One way, the usual and shortest one, was encumbered hy some pictures and . statues that were being moved to another corridor. She took the longer way, which led through the body of the house to the left wing of it, in which her own rooms were, by her choice, for the sake of the view down the sea-coast and north-ward. Going this way, she passed the stately guest-chambers which had been allotted to the Duchesse de Sonnaz. * The lamps in the long gallery burned low; her footfall made no sound on the carpet, she passed on silently as the ghost to which her husband impatiently likened her. She was thinking neither of him nor of her guests: she was thinking how long her life in all likelihood would be, since she was young, and how lonely! Since she was thinking, ‘‘ He bade me keep myself un- spotted from the world; it shall never be he who lowers me.” Suddenly a strong ray of light shone across her feet. She was passing a half-opened door—a door that had been shut with a careless hand, and had re-opened. The curtains within were parted a little; as she passed, she could not tell why, her eyes were drawn to the mellow light shining between the tapestries. It was the door of Jeanne deSonnaz. Through the space Vere saw into the room, and saw her husband. For a moment she made astep forward to enter and front them. The blood leaped into her face; all the pride in her, outraged and disgusted, sprang up in arms under the last and worst of insults. Then with a strong effort she thrust the door to, that others should not see what she had seen—that she should screen his dis- © honor, if he would not—and passed on, unseen and unheard by those within, to her own room. When she reached it she trem- bled from head to foot, but it was with rage. | | She came of a bold race, who had never hgehtly brooked insult, though she had long borne its burden patiently, because duty was stronger with her than pride. She sat down and drew paper and : pens to her, and wrote three lines; } m - eu? it, A Ted be UI comicbooks.com iY A kn’