Moths by Ouida — page 331: what you’re looking at

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

MOTHS. B09 e ‘ Hither I or the Duchesse de Sonnaz leaves Felicite toanorrow before oon. (Signed) VERA, Princess Zourorr,” She sealed the note, and gave it to her woman for the prince. — ** You will give it to Ivan: he will give it to his master in the — morning,” she said, as they were leaving the room. She wag still careful o* his dignity, as he was not. That night she did not sleep. At sunrise they brought her a letter from her husband. ‘It said only, ‘Do what you please. You cannot suppose I shall insult my friend for you.—ZouROFF.” ‘* His friend!” said Vere, with a bitter smile. She recalled memories of her life in Paris and at Svir—recalled so many hints, so many glances, so many things that she had attached no mean- ing to, which now were clear as day. She remembered the warning of Correze. ‘* He, too. must have known!” she thought; and her face burn- ed to think that the man who loved her should be aware of all the outrage passed on her by the man who owned her. ‘¢'The prince asks an answer,” they said, at her door. ‘*There is no answer,” said Vere, and added to her women, ‘* Bring’ me a little tea, and then leave me.” They thought she wished to sleep, and suspected. nothing else. Left to herself, she gathered up some needful. things with her own hands, the first thing she had ever done for herself since the old simple days at Bulmer. She put together the jewels her own family had given her, shut the shattered necklace of the moth and the star up with them in a casket, and put on the plainest clothes she had. She was ready to leave his house now and for- ever. She would take nothing with her that was his or that had been hers by his give. Of the future she had no clear thought: all that she was resolved upon was that no other night should ‘find herself and Jeanne de Sonnaz under the same roof. iy > we All the house was quict. No one had risen except herself. She waited, because she did not choose to go out like one in hiding, ‘or ashamed, from her own home. She intended to leave the lace in full daylight and publicity. The world could say what it liked, bat it could not then say she had Jeft secretly, and the shame vi <uld be for those who merited it. Without and within all was svill. The sea had scarce a sound, no breeze stirred in the trees, the silvery haze that heralded a hot day was over land and water. She stood at the window and looked out, and a quiet gh werutened came over her. She was about to leave it all forever, all the pomp and the splendor, all the monotony and the feverishness, all the burden of rank, and the weariness of pleas- ure. She would soon be aloneand poor. She was not afraid. | She would go intothe dim green German country, and live in some man-forgot‘en place, and get her bread in some way. She > was not afraid. Oaty all the world should know where she went, and why. All the world should know she was alone. She stood beside the open casement with the dog beside her; he would be her sole companion in the loneliness to which she would go, Correze—she thought of Correze, but, with the sterne ae comicbhoo wy y ; ico