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- Мари Корелли
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I
lived
--
how
strange
it
seems
that
I
should
be
writing
now
of
myself
,
as
past
and
done
with
!
--
yes
,
I
lived
in
a
dreamy
,
more
or
less
idyllic
state
of
mind
,
thinking
without
being
conscious
of
thought
,
full
of
fancies
concerning
the
flowers
,
trees
and
birds
--
wishing
for
things
of
which
I
knew
nothing
--
imagining
myself
a
queen
at
times
,
and
again
,
a
peasant
.
I
was
an
omnivorous
reader
--
and
I
was
specially
fond
of
poetry
.
I
used
to
pore
over
the
mystic
verse
of
Shelley
,
and
judged
him
then
as
a
sort
of
demi-god
;
--
and
never
,
even
when
I
knew
all
about
his
life
,
could
I
realize
him
as
a
man
with
a
thin
,
shrieking
falsetto
voice
and
'
loose
'
notions
concerning
women
.
But
I
am
quite
sure
it
was
good
for
his
fame
that
he
was
drowned
in
early
youth
with
so
many
melancholy
and
dramatic
surroundings
--
it
saved
him
,
I
consider
,
from
a
possibly
vicious
and
repulsive
old
age
.
I
adored
Keats
till
I
knew
he
had
wasted
his
passion
on
a
Fanny
Brawn
--
and
then
the
glamour
of
him
vanished
.
I
can
offer
no
reason
for
this
--
I
merely
set
down
the
fact
.
I
made
a
hero
of
Lord
Byron
--
in
fact
he
has
always
formed
for
me
the
only
heroical
type
of
poet
.
Strong
in
himself
and
pitiless
in
his
love
for
women
,
he
treated
them
for
the
most
part
as
they
merited
,
considering
the
singular
and
unworthy
specimens
of
the
sex
it
was
his
misfortune
to
encounter
.
I
used
to
wonder
,
when
reading
these
men
's
amorous
lines
,
whether
love
would
ever
come
my
way
,
and
what
beatific
state
of
emotion
I
should
then
enjoy
.
Then
came
the
rough
awakening
from
all
my
dreams
--
childhood
melted
into
womanhood
--
and
at
sixteen
I
was
taken
up
to
town
with
my
parents
to
"
know
something
of
the
ways
and
manners
of
society
,
"
before
finally
'
coming
out
.
'
Oh
,
those
ways
and
manners
!
I
learnt
them
to
perfection
!
Astonished
at
first
,
then
bewildered
,
and
allowed
no
time
to
form
any
judgment
on
what
I
saw
,
I
was
hurried
through
a
general
vague
'
impression
'
of
things
such
as
I
had
never
imagined
or
dreamed
of
.
While
I
was
yet
lost
in
wonderment
,
and
kept
constantly
in
companionship
with
young
girls
of
my
own
rank
and
age
,
who
nevertheless
seemed
much
more
advanced
in
knowledge
of
the
world
than
I
,
my
father
suddenly
informed
me
that
Willowsmere
was
lost
to
us
--
that
he
could
not
afford
to
keep
it
up
--
and
that
we
should
return
there
no
more
.
Ah
,
what
tears
I
shed
!
--
what
a
fury
of
grief
consumed
me
!
--
I
did
not
then
comprehend
the
difficult
entanglements
of
either
wealth
or
poverty
;
--
all
I
could
realize
was
that
the
doors
of
my
dear
old
home
were
closed
upon
me
for
ever
.
After
that
,
I
think
I
grew
cold
and
hard
in
disposition
;
I
had
never
loved
my
mother
very
dearly
--
in
fact
I
had
seen
very
little
of
her
,
as
she
was
always
away
visiting
,
if
not
entertaining
visitors
,
and
she
seldom
had
me
with
her
--
so
that
when
she
was
suddenly
struck
down
by
a
first
shock
of
paralysis
,
it
affected
me
but
little
.
She
had
her
doctors
and
nurses
--
I
had
my
governess
still
with
me
;
and
my
mother
's
sister
,
Aunt
Charlotte
,
came
to
keep
house
for
us
--
so
I
began
to
analyse
society
for
myself
,
without
giving
any
expression
of
my
opinions
on
what
I
observed
.
I
was
not
yet
'
out
,
'
but
I
went
everywhere
where
girls
of
my
age
were
invited
,
and
perceived
things
without
showing
that
I
had
any
faculty
of
perception
.
I
cultivated
a
passionless
and
cold
exterior
--
a
listless
,
uninterested
and
frigid
demeanor
--
for
I
discovered
that
this
was
accepted
by
many
people
as
dullness
or
stupidity
,
and
that
by
assuming
such
a
character
,
certain
otherwise
crafty
persons
would
talk
more
readily
before
me
,
and
betray
themselves
and
their
vices
unawares
.
Thus
my
'
social
education
'
began
in
grim
earnest
;
--
women
of
title
and
renown
would
ask
me
to
their
'
quiet
teas
,
'
because
I
was
what
they
were
pleased
to
call
a
'
harmless
girl
--
'
'
rather
pretty
,
but
dull
,
'
--
and
allow
me
to
assist
them
in
entertaining
the
lovers
who
called
upon
them
while
their
husbands
were
out
.
I
remember
that
on
one
occasion
,
a
great
lady
famous
for
two
things
,
her
diamonds
and
her
intimacy
with
the
Queen
,
kissed
her
'
cavaliere
servente
,
'
a
noted
sporting
earl
,
with
considerable
abandon
in
my
presence
.
He
muttered
something
about
me
--
I
heard
it
;
--
but
his
amorous
mistress
merely
answered
in
a
whisper
--
"
Oh
,
it
's
only
Sibyl
Elton
--
she
understands
nothing
.
"
Afterwards
however
,
when
he
had
gone
,
she
turned
to
me
with
a
grin
and
remarked
--
"
You
saw
me
kiss
Bertie
,
did
n't
you
?
I
often
do
;
he
's
quite
like
my
brother
!
"
I
made
no
reply
--
I
only
smiled
vaguely
;
and
the
next
day
she
sent
me
a
valuable
diamond
ring
,
which
I
at
once
returned
to
her
with
a
prim
little
note
,
stating
that
I
was
much
obliged
,
but
that
my
father
considered
me
too
young
as
yet
to
wear
diamonds
.
Why
do
I
think
of
these
trifles
now
I
wonder
!
--
now
when
I
am
about
to
take
my
leave
of
life
and
all
its
lies
!
...
There
is
a
little
bird
singing
outside
my
bedroom
window
--
such
a
pretty
creature
!
I
suppose
it
is
happy
?
--
it
should
be
,
as
it
is
not
human
...
The
tears
are
in
my
eyes
as
I
listen
to
its
sweet
warbling
,
and
think
that
it
will
be
living
and
singing
still
to-day
at
sunset
when
I
am
dead
!
That
last
sentence
was
mere
sentiment
,
for
I
am
not
sorry
to
die
.
If
I
felt
the
least
regret
about
it
I
should
not
carry
out
my
intention
.
I
must
resume
my
narrative
--
for
it
is
an
analysis
I
am
trying
to
make
of
myself
,
to
find
out
if
I
can
whether
there
are
no
excuses
to
be
found
for
my
particular
disposition
--
whether
it
is
not
after
all
,
the
education
and
training
I
have
had
that
have
made
me
what
I
am
,
or
whether
indeed
I
was
born
evil
from
the
first
.
The
circumstances
that
surrounded
me
,
did
not
,
at
any
rate
,
tend
to
soften
or
improve
my
character
.
I
had
just
passed
my
seventeenth
birthday
,
when
one
morning
my
father
called
me
into
his
library
and
told
me
the
true
position
of
his
affairs
.
I
learned
that
he
was
crippled
on
all
sides
with
debt
--
that
he
lived
on
advances
made
to
him
by
Jew
usurers
--
and
that
these
advances
were
trusted
to
him
solely
on
the
speculation
that
I
,
his
only
daughter
,
would
make
a
sufficiently
rich
marriage
to
enable
him
to
repay
all
loans
with
heavy
interest
.
He
went
on
to
say
that
he
hoped
I
would
act
sensibly
--
and
that
when
any
men
showed
indications
of
becoming
suitors
for
my
hand
,
I
would
,
before
encouraging
them
,
inform
him
,
in
order
that
he
might
make
strict
enquiries
as
to
their
actual
extent
of
fortune
.
I
then
understood
,
for
the
first
time
,
that
I
was
for
sale
.
I
listened
in
silence
till
he
had
finished
--
then
I
asked
him
--
'
Love
,
I
suppose
,
is
not
to
be
considered
in
the
matter
?
'
He
laughed
,
and
assured
me
it
was
much
easier
to
love
a
rich
man
than
a
poor
one
,
as
I
would
find
out
after
a
little
experience
.
He
added
,
with
some
hesitation
,
that
to
help
make
both
ends
meet
,
as
the
expenses
of
town
life
were
considerable
,
he
had
arranged
to
take
a
young
American
lady
under
his
charge
,
a
Miss
Diana
Chesney
,
who
wished
to
be
introduced
into
English
society
,
and
who
would
pay
two
thousand
guineas
a
year
to
him
for
that
privilege
,
and
for
Aunt
Charlotte
's
services
as
chaperône
.
I
do
not
remember
now
what
I
said
to
him
when
I
heard
this
--
I
know
that
my
long
suppressed
feelings
broke
out
in
a
storm
of
fury
,
and
that
for
the
moment
he
was
completely
taken
aback
by
the
force
of
my
indignation
.
An
American
boarder
in
our
house
!
--
it
seemed
to
me
as
outrageous
and
undignified
as
the
conduct
of
a
person
I
once
heard
of
,
who
,
favoured
by
the
Queen
's
patronage
with
'
free
'
apartments
in
Kensington
Palace
,
took
from
time
to
time
on
the
sly
,
an
American
or
Colonial
'
paying-guest
,
'
who
adopted
forthwith
the
address
of
Her
Majesty
's
birthplace
as
her
own
,
thus
lowering
the
whole
prestige
of
that
historic
habitation
.
My
wrath
however
was
useless
;
--
the
bargain
was
arranged
--
my
father
,
regardless
of
his
proud
lineage
and
the
social
dignity
of
his
position
,
had
degraded
himself
,
in
my
opinion
,
to
the
level
of
a
sort
of
superior
lodging-house
keeper
--
and
from
that
time
I
lost
all
my
former
respect
for
him
.
Of
course
it
can
be
argued
that
I
was
wrong
--
that
I
ought
to
have
honoured
him
for
turning
his
name
to
monetary
account
by
loaning
it
out
as
a
protective
shield
and
panoply
for
an
American
woman
without
anything
but
the
dollars
of
a
vulgar
'
railway-king
'
to
back
her
up
in
society
--
but
I
could
not
see
it
in
that
light
.
I
retreated
into
myself
more
than
ever
--
and
became
more
than
pleasantly
known
for
my
coldness
,
reserve
and
hauteur
.
Miss
Chesney
came
,
and
strove
hard
to
be
my
friend
--
but
she
soon
found
that
impossible
.
She
is
a
good-hearted
creature
I
believe
--
but
she
is
badly
bred
and
badly
trained
as
all
her
compatriots
are
,
more
or
less
,
despite
their
smattering
of
an
European
education
;
I
disliked
her
from
the
first
,
and
have
spared
no
pains
to
show
it
.
Yet
I
know
she
will
be
Countess
of
Elton
as
soon
as
it
is
decently
possible
--
say
,
after
the
year
's
ceremonious
mourning
for
my
mother
has
expired
,
and
perhaps
three
months
'
hypocritical
wearing
of
black
for
me
--
my
father
believes
himself
to
be
still
young
and
passably
good-looking
,
and
he
is
quite
incapable
of
resisting
the
fortune
she
will
bring
him
.
When
she
took
up
her
fixed
abode
in
our
house
and
Aunt
Charlotte
became
her
paid
chaperône
,
I
seldom
went
out
to
any
social
gatherings
,
for
I
could
not
endure
the
idea
of
being
seen
in
her
companionship
.
I
kept
to
my
own
room
a
great
deal
,
and
thus
secluded
,
read
many
books
.
All
the
fashionable
fiction
of
the
day
passed
through
my
hands
,
much
to
my
gradual
enlightenment
,
if
not
to
my
edification
.
One
day
--
a
day
that
is
stamped
on
my
memory
as
a
kind
of
turning-point
in
my
life
--
I
read
a
novel
by
a
woman
which
I
did
not
at
first
entirely
understand
--
but
on
going
over
some
of
its
passages
a
second
time
,
all
at
once
its
horrible
lasciviousness
flashed
upon
me
,
and
filled
me
with
such
genuine
disgust
that
I
flung
it
on
the
ground
in
a
fit
of
loathing
and
contempt
.
Yet
I
had
seen
it
praised
in
all
the
leading
journals
of
the
day
;
its
obscenities
were
hinted
at
as
'
daring
,
'
--
its
vulgarities
were
quoted
as
'
brilliant
wit
,
'
--
in
fact
so
many
laudatory
columns
were
written
about
it
in
the
press
that
I
resolved
to
read
it
again
.
Encouraged
by
the
'
literary
censors
'
of
the
time
,
I
did
so
,
and
little
by
little
the
insidious
abomination
of
it
filtered
into
my
mind
and
stayed
there
.
I
began
to
think
about
it
--
and
by-and-by
found
pleasure
in
thinking
about
it
.
I
sent
for
other
books
by
the
same
tainted
hand
,
and
my
appetite
for
that
kind
of
prurient
romance
grew
keener
.
At
this
particular
juncture
as
chance
or
fate
would
have
it
,
an
acquaintance
of
mine
,
the
daughter
of
a
Marchioness
,
a
girl
with
large
black
eyes
,
and
those
full
protruding
lips
which
remind
one
unconsciously
of
a
swine
's
snout
,
brought
me
two
or
three
odd
volumes
of
the
poems
of
Swinburne
.
Always
devoted
to
poetry
,
and
considering
it
to
be
the
highest
of
the
arts
,
and
up
to
that
period
having
been
ignorant
of
this
writer
's
work
,
I
turned
over
the
books
with
eagerness
,
expecting
to
enjoy
the
usual
sublime
emotions
which
it
is
the
privilege
and
glory
of
the
poet
to
inspire
in
mortals
less
divinely
endowed
than
himself
,
and
who
turn
to
him
"
for
help
to
climb
