Moths by Ouida — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

a ata | MOTHS. as bad a set as there is in Europe; not but what it is much the same everywhere. They say the Second Empire did it. I don’t know if it’s that, but Ido know that ‘gentlewomen,’ as you call it, are things one never sees nowadays anywhere in Paris or Lon- don, You have got the old grace, but how long will you keep it? They will corrupt you; and if they can’t, they’ll ruin you. _. Is it so easy to be corrupted or to be ruined?” _ ‘*Hasy as blacking your glove,” said Jura, moodily. Vere gave a little sigh. Life seemed to her very difficult. “‘1 do not think they will change me,” she said, after afew moments’ thought. ‘‘T don’t think they will; but they will make you pay for it. If they say nothing worse of you than that you are ‘odd,’ you will be lucky. How did you become what you were? You, Dolly’s daughter!” Vere colored at the unconscious contempt with which he spoke the two last words. ‘“‘I try to be what my father would have wished,” she said, under her breath. Jura wastouched. His blue eyes grew dim and reverential. ‘‘I wish to Heaven your father may watch over you!” he said, in a husky voice. ‘‘In owr world, my dear, you will want some good angel—hbitterly. Perhaps you will be your own, though, I hope so.” His hand sought hers and caught it closely for an instant, and he grew very pale. Verelooked up in alittle surprise. ‘‘ You are very kind to think of me,” she said, with a certain emotion. ‘“Who would not think of you?’ muttered Jura, with a dark- ness on his frank, fair, bold face. ‘‘ Don’t be so astonished that I do,” he said, with alittle laugh, whose irony she did not under- stand. ‘* You know I am such a friend of your mother’s?” * Yes,” said Vere, gravely. She was perplexed. He took up her fan and unfurled it. “Who gave you this thing? It is an old one of Dolly’s; T bought it in the Passage Choiseul myself: it’s not half good enough for you now. Ibought oneat Christie’s, last winter, that belonged to Maria Theresa; it has her monogram in opals; it was painted by Fragonard, or one of those beggars; I will send for it i or you. if you will please me by taking it.” ‘You are very kind,” said Vere. ‘That is what you say of Serge Zouroff!” She laughed a little. ‘‘Tlike you better than Monsieur Zouroff.” Jura’s face flushed to the roots of his fair, crisp curls. ‘And as well as your favored singer?’ “Ah, no!” Vere spoke quickly, and with a frown on her pretty brows. She was annoyed at the mention of Correze. Lady Dolly approached at that moment—an apparition of | white lace and nenuphars, with some wonderful old cameos as or- hnaments. ‘Take me to the tea-room, Jack,” she said, sharply. ‘‘ Clemens com (C 00 SS (elo) a ‘2 ae ™ mg & * .