"I think if any one influenced me it must have been my mother," he said, gently; "she was always violently opposed to it."
The beautiful lips paled and trembled.
"I thought it was your mother," she said, gravely, "No, I shall not forego my vengeance against her, although I know not when I may gain it."
"You will forget all that," he said. "You are too noble to care for vengeance."
"I am not too noble," she replied. "All that was best and noble in me died on the day you forsook me. And now, Lord Chandos, listen to me. Words of peace and pardon have passed between us. It has raised a heavy funeral pall from my life; it has, perhaps, raised a black cloud from yours. Lord Chandos, we must not meet again."
"You cannot be so cruel, Leone. Having found you, how can I lose you again?"
"You must, it is imperative," she said slowly.
"But, Leone, why should we not be friends?" he said, gently.
She laughed a hard, scornful laugh that struck him in the face like the sting of a sharp blade.
"Friends?" she repeated. "Could we who have been wedded lovers ever be friends? You do not know what words mean if you think that."