Moths by Ouida — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

“Age MOTHS. think of; it was natural. I was nobody. There were hundreds and thousands could play as well as I had ever played. One day, when I was standing in the cold, hungry, with my little girl hungry, too, I heard them saying how the young singer Correze had been engaged at fifty thousand francs a-night for the season. I went home and I made the child write a letter to the young man. I[ told him what had happened to me, and I said, ‘ You are young and: famous, and gold rains on you like dew in mid- summer; will you remember that we are very wretched? If you said a word to my old directors—you—they would think of me.’ I sent the letter. I had often played in the orchestra when the young man was first turning the heads of all Paris. I knew he was gay and careless: I had not much hope.” ‘“Well?? Her voice had grown soft and eager; the man was blind, and could not see the flush upon her face. | ‘* Well, a day or two went by, and I thought the letter was gone in the dust. Then he came to me—he himself—Correze. I knew his perfect voice as I heard it on thestairs. You can never forget it once you have heard. He had a secretary even then, but he had not left my letter to the secretary. He came like the angel Raphael whose name he bears.” Vere’s eyes filled: she thought of the white cliffs by the sea, of the sweet-brier hedge, and the song of the thrush. ‘¢ But I tire madame,” said the blind man. ‘‘ He came like an angel. There is no more to be said. He made believe to get me a pension from the opera, but [ have always thought that it is his own money, though he will not own to it; and, as my child had a talent for flower-making, he had her taught the trade, and got her employed, later on, by the Maison Justine. He sent me that china, and he sends me those flowers, and he comes, some- times, himself. He has sung here—here/—only just to make my darkness lighter. And Iam not the only one, madame. There are many, many, many who, if they ever say their prayers, should never forget Correze.” Vere was silent, because her voice failed her. ‘*You have heard Correze, madame, of course, many times?” asked the blind man. ‘‘Ah, they say he has no religion and is careless as the butterflies are: to me he has been as the angels, I should have been in Bicetre or in my grave but for him,” The girl at that moment entered. ‘‘ Felicie,” said the Sieur Martin, ‘‘ give the princess a piece of heliotrope. Oh, she has forests of heliotrope in her conserva- tories, that I am sure, but she will accept it:\it is the flower Correze.” : Vere took it and put it amidst the old lace at her breast. “You have Felicie Martin among your girls, I think?” said Vere to the head of the Maison Justine a little later. The principal of that fashionable house, a handsome and clever woman, assented. | ' §6'Then let her make some flowers for me,” added Vere. ‘*An flowers will do. Only will you permit me to pay her throug you ere well for them? much better for them than they are ' comicbooks.co