A Mad Love by Charlotte M. Brame

Author:Charlotte M. Brame
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620133040
Publisher: Duke Classics

Chapter XXXII - An Act of Perfidy

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So—inch by inch, little by little, step by step—Lord Chandos was influenced to give up his faith, his promise, his loyalty. I, who write the story, offer no excuse for him—there is none for the falseness and perfidy of men—yet it is of so common occurrence the world only jests about it—the world makes poetry of it and sings, cheerfully:

"One foot on land and one on shore,

Men were deceivers ever."

A promise more or less, a vow more or less, a broken heart, a ruined life, a lost soul, a crime that calls to Heaven for vengeance—what is it? The world laughs at "Love's perfidies;" the world says that it serves one right. The girl is slain in her youth by a worse fate than early death, and the man goes on his way blithely enough.

Lord Chandos could not quite trample his conscience under foot; under the influence of his mother he began to see that his love for Leone had been very unfortunate and very fatal; he had begun to think that if one of two women must be miserable it had better be Leone. That which was present influenced him most. He loved his mother, he was flattered by Lady Marion's love for him. So many influences were brought to bear upon him, the earl and countess were so devoted to him, Lady Marion charmed him so much with her grace and kindness of manner, her sweetness of disposition, her wonderful repose, that his faith grew weak and his loyalty failed.

There came an evening when they two—Lord Chandos and Lady Marion—stood alone in one of the most beautiful courts of the Alhambra. The whole party had been visiting that marvelous palace, and, more by accident than design, they found themselves alone. The sun was setting—a hundred colors flamed in the western sky; the sun seemed loath to leave the lovely, laughing earth; all the flowers were sending her a farewell message; the air was laden with richest odors; the ripple of green leaves made music, and they stood in the midst of the glories of the past and the smile of the present.

"I can people the place," said Lady Marion, in her quiet way. "I can see the cavaliers in their gay dresses and plumes, the dark-eyed senoras with veil and fan. How many hearts have loved and broken within these walls, Lord Chandos!"

"Hearts love and break everywhere," he said, gloomily.

She went on:

"I wonder if many dreams of this grand Alhambra came to Queen Catharine of Arragon, when she lay down to rest—that is, if much rest came to her?"

"Why should not rest come to her?" asked Lord Chandos, and the fair face, raised to answer him, grew pale.

"Why? What a question to ask me. Was she not jealous and with good cause? How can a jealous woman know rest? I am quite sure that she must have thought often with longing and regret, of her home in sunny Granada."

"I have never been jealous in my life," said Lord Chandos.

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