Moths by Ouida — page 245: what you’re looking at

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

MOTHS 241 mountaineers, You would care for it. It made me a boy again!" ** You went only for that?” ‘Only for that. What can one give you? You have every- | thing. Prince Zouroff bought you the Roc’s egg, but I think he would not care to climb for the Wolfinia. It is only a mountain- flower.” : Vere was silent _ It was only a mountain-flower; but, as he spoke of it, he gave it the meaning of the flower of Oberon. | Had she any right to hear him? The dusky shadows of the church seemed to swim before her sight; the beauty of the Noet seemed still to echo on her ear. ** How could you tell that I was here?” she murmured. He smiled. ‘‘ That was very easy. I wasin Ischl at daybreak. I would have sung a revetl under your window while the east was red, only Madame Jeanne would have taken it to herself. You go to Russia ?” ‘“‘ In three days—yes.” Correze was silent. A slight shudder passed over him, as if the cold of Russia touched him. Suddenly he dropped on his knee before her. . ‘*] am but a singer of songs,” he murmured. ‘*But I honor you as greater and graver men cannot do, perhaps. More than I do, none can. They will speak idly of me to you, I dare say, and evil too, perhaps; but do not listen, do not believe. If you ever need a servant—or an avenger—call on me.. If I be living I willcome. Alas! alas! neither I, nor any man, can save the ermine from the moths, the soul from the world; but you are in God’s hands, if God there be above us. Farewell.” «Then he kissed the hem of her skirts and left her. She kept the mountain-flowers in her hand, and knew how her doubts had wronged him. Ten minutes later she left the church, hearing the voices of her friends. At the entrance she was met by Madame de Son- naz, whose kigh silver heels, and tall ebony cane, and skirts of cardinal red, drew after her an amazed group of Styrian chil- dren and women with their distaffs. ‘‘ Where have you been, Vere dear?” asked Duchesse Jeanne, ‘We have missed you for hours. -We have been on the river, and we are very hungry. What is that dark-blue flower? does that grow in the church?” I am dying for a quail and a peach. — A gray-headed English ambassador, Lord Bangor, who was in — the rear of the duchess, and was a keen and learned botanist, bent his eye-glasses on the rare blue blossom. ‘¢ The Wolfinia!’” he cried, in delighted wonder. ‘‘ The Wolfinia Carinthiana/ that is the very phoenix of all flowers! Oh, prin- cess, if it be not tuo intrusive, may one beg to know where ever you got that treasure? Its only home is leagues away on the Gitschthal.” | ‘‘T¢ came from the Gitschthal; a boy brought it to me,” answered Vere; yet, theugh the words were literally true, she fe 7 a aC lo Ss WS Eyer se % t “i Pe fs ri} te “Ais? ; of Noe ae ALD pal @ AN