"It will come," he said; "let me finish the picture. I shall have a special license with me so that we can be remarried that day; and then the world shall know who is Lady Chandos. Then my lady mother shall seek you who have sought her; then she shall ask to know you, my darling, and this hideous past shall be to us a dream and nothing more. Leone, when sad thoughts come to you promise me that you will dwell on this side of the picture and forget the other." "I promise, Lance," she said, gently. "You see, my love--whom I shall so soon call again by the beautiful name of wife--you see that your life does not lie in ruins round you; the only difference is that I shall be away." "And that makes the difference of the whole world to me," said Leone. "And to me," said Lord Chandos; "but it will soon be over, Leone. You can go on living here--it is no unusual thing for a lady to live alone while her husband is abroad. You can keep the same servants; you need not make the least alteration in your life in any way. Only remain here in silence and patience until I return. Now do you see, my darling, it is not so dreadful?" "It is hard enough," she replied; "but you have taken away the sting. Oh, my darling, you will be true to me? I am only a simple village girl, with nothing, your mother says, to recommend me; but I love you--I love you. You will be true to me?" "My dearest Leone, you may as well ask if the stars will be true to heaven, or heaven to itself, as ask me if I will be true to you. You are my life--a man is not false to his own life. You are soul of my soul--no man betrays his soul! It would be easier for me to die than be false to you, my love." The passionate words reassured her--something of hope came over the beautiful face. "Lance," she said, "do you remember the mill-wheel and how the water used to sing the words of the song?" "Yes, I remember it; but those will never come true over us, Leone, never. I shall never break my vows or you yours." "No; yet how the water sung it over and over again: "'Those vows were all forgotten, The ring asunder broke.' I can hear it now, Lance. It seems to me the wind is repeating it." "It is only your fancy, my darling," he said. But she went on: "'I would the grave would hide me, For there alone is peace.' Ah, Lance, my love--Lance, will it happen to either of us to find peace in the grave?" "No, we shall find peace in life first," he said. She laid her hand on his arm.