through the blandishments of a woman. Lord Chandos was neither as strong
as Samson nor as wise as Solomon; and that a clever woman should get the
upper hand of him was not to be wondered at.

He was a brave, gallant, generous gentleman, gay and genial; he could
not endure feeling unhappy, nor could he bear the thought of any other
person's unhappiness; he had no tragedy about him; he was kind of heart
and simple of mind; he was clever and gifted, but he was like wax in the
hands of a clever woman like Lady Lanswell.

He was singularly unsuspicious, believed in most things and most
persons; he never misjudged or gave any one credit for bad qualities. He
had no more intention of deserting Leone when he left England than he
had of seizing the crown of Turkey. His honest, honorable intention was
to return to her and marry her on the first hour that such a marriage
could be legal. He would have laughed to scorn any one who would have
hinted at such a thing. His love then was his life, and he had nothing
beside it.

Gradually, slowly but surely, other interests occupied him. A great
writer says: "Love is the life of a woman, but only an episode in the
life of a man." That was the difference--it was Leone's life; to him it
had been an episode--and now that the episode was somewhat passed, other
interests opened to him. He meant to be faithful to her and to marry
her; nothing should ever shake that determination; but he had ceased to
think it need be so hurriedly done; he need not certainly forego the
pleasure of the tour and hurry home for his birthday; that was quixotic
nonsense; any time that year would do. After his marriage he should lose
his mother and Lady Marion; he would enjoy their company as long as he
could; Leone was right, she had a luxurious home, the assurance of his
love and fidelity, the certainty of being his wife--a few weeks or
months would make but little difference to her. He did not think he had
done any great harm in going to Spain. One might call it a broken
promise; but then most promises are made with a proviso that they shall
be kept if possible; and this was not possible; he would have been very
foolish--so he said to himself--if he had made matters worse by refusing
to go with his mother to Spain. It would have increased her irritation
and annoyance all to no purpose.

He tried to convince himself that it was right; and he ended by
believing it.

He felt rather anxious as to what Leone would