arion, and forget the past."

Did he forget it? No one ever knew. He never had the same light in his
eyes, the same frank, free look on his face, the same ring in his laugh;
from that day he was a changed man. Did he think of the fair young girl,
whose passionate heart and soul he had woke into such keen life? Did he
think of the mill-stream and the ripple of the water, and the lines so
full of foreboding:

"The vows are all forgotten,
The ring asunder broke."

Ah, how true Leone's presentiment had been! The vow was forgotten, the
ring broken, the pretty love-story all ended. He never dared to ask any
questions from his mother about her; he turned coward whenever the
English letters were delivered; he never dared to think about her, to
wonder how she had taken this letter, what she had thought, said, or
done. He was not happy. Proud, ambitious, mercenary, haughty as was the
Countess of Lanswell, there were times when she felt grieved for her
son. It was such a young face, but there was a line on the broad, fair
brow; there was a shadow in the sunny eyes; the music had gone out from
his voice.

"Marion will soon make it all right," said the proud, anxious, unhappy
mother; "there will be nothing to fear when once they are married."

Lady Marion was the most gentle and least exacting of all human beings,
but even she fancied Lord Chandos was but a poor wooer. He was always
polite, deferential, attentive, and kind; yet he seldom spoke of love.
After that evening in the Alhambra he never kissed her; he never sought
any _tete-a-tete_ with her. She had had many lovers, as was only natural
for a beauty and a great heiress. None of them had been so cool, so
self-contained as Lord Chandos.

Lady Lanswell managed well; she ought to have been empress of some great
nation; her powers of administration were so great. She persuaded them
to have the wedding in the month of September, and to travel until that
came.

"It will be a change from the common custom," she said; "most people are
married in England, and go to the Continent for their honey-moon; you
will be married in the Continent, and go to England for the honey-moon."

It was some little disappointment to Lady Marion; like all girls she had
thought a great deal of her marriage. She had always fancied it in the
grand old church at Erskine, where the noble men and women of her race
slept their last sleep, where the Erskines for many generations had been
married