She smiled after he was gone, half flattered by his words, yet half amazed. Could what he said be true? Was this dramatic power, as he called it, the power she had felt within herself which made her different to others? Then she laughed again. What did it matter to her—her life would be spent under the shelter of her husband's love—the husband who was to claim her in June.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE RECONCILIATION.
Those few months had been filled with excitement for Lord Chandos. The pain he had felt at leaving his wife had been great and hard to bear, but life differs so greatly for men and women. Women must sit at home and weep. For them comes no great field of action, no stir of battle, no rush of fight; their sorrow weighs them down because they have nothing to shake it off. With men it is so different; they rush into action and forget it.
Leone was for some days prostrate with the pains of her sorrow. Lord Chandos suffered acutely for a couple of hours; then came the excitement of his journey, the whirl of travel and adventure, the thousand sources of interest and pleasure.
He was compelled to take his thoughts from Leone. He had a hundred other interests; not that he loved or cared for her less, but that he was compelled to give his attention to the duties intrusted to him. He was compelled to set his sorrow aside.
"I must work now," he said to himself, "I shall have time to think afterward."
He would have time to look his sorrow in the face—now it must stand aside.
When he really brought himself face to face with the world, it was impossible to help feeling flattered by the position he held. Every one congratulated him.