Moths by Ouida — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

MOTHS, 59 ‘Oh! your singer? Don’t call him a marquis. He is the ince of tenors, that’s all.” ‘‘ He isa French marquis,” said Vere, with a certain coldness. “‘ They were a very great race. You can see all about it in the ‘Livre d’Or’ of Savoy; they were like the Counts Costa de Beau- regard, who lost everything in the’eighty-nine. You must have read M. de Beauregard’s beautiful book——>” ‘* Never heard of it. Did the tenor tell you all that rubbish?” ‘“Where is mamma, Lord Jura?” said Vere. ‘I am tired of sitting here.” _*That’s afacer,” thought Jura. ‘‘ And, by Jove, very well given for such a baby. I beg your pardon,” he said, aloud. **Correze shall be a prince of the blood, if you wish. Your mother is over there; but I doubt if she’ll thank you to goto her; she’s in the thick of it with them; look.” He meant that Lady Dolly was flirting very desperately, and enjoying herself very thoroughly, having nearly as many men about her as Miss Fuschia Leach. Vere looked, and her eyes clouded. oo I think I may goto bed. Shewill not miss me. Goode night.” | ‘*No, she won’t miss you. Perhaps other people will.” ‘There is no oneI know, so how can they?’ said Vere, inno- cently, and rose to go; but Sergius Zouroff, who had approached in the last moment, barred her passage with a smiling deference, ‘Your host will, Mademoiselle Herbert. Does my poor house weary you, that you think of your own room at ten o’clock?” ‘‘T always go to bed at ten, monsieur,” said Vere. ‘‘It is nothing new for me.” ‘* Let me show you my flowers first,” at last said Prince Zou- roff.. ‘* You know we Russians, born amidst snow and ice, have 2 passion for tropical houses; will you not come ?” He held out his arm as he spoke. Would it be rude to refuse? Vere did not know. She was afraid it would, as he was her ost. She laid her fingers hesitatingly on his offered arm, and was led through the rooms by Prince Zouroff. Fuschia Leach took her hands from behind her head, and stared; Lady Dolly would have turned pale, if she had not been so well painted; Lady Stoat Bal her eye-glass up, and smiied, Prince Zouroff had a horror of unmarried women, and never had been known to pay any sort of attention to one, not even to his sister’s guest, Fuschia Leach the irresistible. Prince Zouroff was a tall, large man of seven-and-thirty, loosely built, and plain of feature. He had all the vices, and had them all in excess, but he was a very polished gentleman when he chose; and he was one of the richest men in Europe, and his family, of which he was the head, was very near the throne, in rank and influence; for twenty years, ever since he had left the imperial Corps de Pages, and shown himself in Paris, driving his team of black Orlofs, he had been the idolatry, the aspiration, and the despair of all the mothers of maidens. | Vere’s passage through his drawing-rooms on his arm was @ f Eomicboo cS (e(@)