"How is that possible?"
"It must be possible," replied Gouache. "If you love me it shall be possible. It is only a question of a little courage and good-will. But, after all, your father may consent. Why should he not?"
"Because—" she hesitated a little.
"Because I am not a Roman prince, you mean." Anastase glanced quickly at her.
"No. He wants me to marry Frangipani."
"Why did you never tell me that?"
"I did not know it when we last met. My mother told me of it last night."
"Is the match settled?" asked Gouache. He was very pale.
"I think it has been spoken of," answered Faustina in a low voice. She shivered a little and pressed her hands together. There was a short silence, during which Anastase did not take his eyes from her, while she looked down, avoiding his look.
"Then there is no time to be lost," said Gouache at last. "I will go to your father to-morrow morning."