ous in the observance of its tenets; he could not brook a word, a
glance, a smile which might seem derogatory to the essence of its
established maxims. Again, his word was sacred and inviolable. The
least equivocation in his promise to man might sully him with an
indelible stain; but then he would calmly and deliberately, without
transgressing his honor, employ all his guile to deceive a weak and
unprotected female. Honor would compel him to acquit the debt of the
gaming table, even when he was almost justified in impeaching the
integrity of the creditor, but as a counterpoise, that same honor,
without any dereliction of principle, allowed him to turn a deaf ear to
the claims of more humble suitors; claims, certainly more just and
sacred, but far less _honorable_.

The rigid adherence of Don Lope to his word, was fully exemplified in
the convenient recollection of his engagement to Leonor de Aguilar. He
had pledged his faith to that lady, and had undoubtedly been a little
too remiss in its fulfilment, but now that he had nothing more to hope
from Theodora, he was alive to the sacredness of his promise, and the
almost dishonorable nature of any delay.

It was by this and the like sophistical reasonings, that he endeavored
to palliate his ingratitude and cruelty towards the hapless victim of
his lawless desires; for hardened as he was in his libertinism, and
unjust as were his sentiments with regard to women, he could not avoid
feeling a pang of conscious remorse at the recollection of Theodora. He
had systematically won the confidence of an unsuspecting girl, and when
she had intrusted him with her heart's best affections, how was the
trust requited? He had despoiled her of her innocence and peace of mind;
seduced her from her home; snatched her from the arms of an indulgent
parent, and now abandoned her, degraded in her own estimation, and a
prey to all the bitterest pangs of shame and remorse, and disappointed
love. He had laid rude hands on the tender flower in its opening bloom,
and prematurely sipped the sweetness from the blossom, and then
unpitying he had cast it by, neglected and forlorn.

It required all the brilliant anticipations of Don Lope's future career,
to stifle the unpleasant reflections that crowded upon his imagination,
and he endeavoured for some time wholly to dispel such unwelcome ideas,
by courting others of a more agreeable nature.

The image of Leonor de Aguilar stood before his sight in all