It is possible that the late Principe di Montefiano's point of view would have been different. But, fortunately, perhaps, for herself, Mademoiselle Jeanne d'Antin had not made the acquaintance of her husband until he had already, like King David and King Solomon, experienced misgivings of a religious character, and hence the Abbé Roux's apologia for her brother's state of mind seemed to her to be perfectly reasonable and satisfactory.
So Bianca's abrupt pause and little shiver of disgust passed unobserved by the princess. It was evident to her that the girl did not realize the generosity of Philippe's affection. Bianca was, no doubt, contrasting him with that insolent young Rossano, and the thought added to her irritation and displeasure.
"I do not think you understand, Bianca," she began, after hesitating for a moment or two.
"I assure you that I understand well—perfectly well," returned Bianca, dryly. "I am not a child any longer: for the matter of that, I do not recollect ever having been a child, and it is useless to treat me as though I were one. You may keep me here at Montefiano three years, if you wish. It will be the same thing in the end. But I will not be made love to by my uncle."
The princess rose from the table and began to walk rapidly up and down the room.
"Bianca," she cried, "your language is disgraceful, indelicate! Besides," she added, weakly, "he is not your uncle. It is absurd, and, as usual, you are ungrateful. He wished to save you from the consequences of your conduct. Oh, you need not think that he has said anything to me of his motives. He is too much of a gentleman to do so. But he has confided them to Monsieur l'Abbé, and Monsieur l'Abbé has been profoundly touched. A disinterested affection is not such an easy thing to find, figlia mia," she added, more gently. "Take care that, in despising it, you do not throw away a great blessing."
Bianca did not reply. She seemed to be thinking over her step-mother's last words. A note of kindness found an instant response in her. Princess Montefiano noticed her hesitation, and decided that the moment was opportune for pressing her point. It might quite well be, she thought, that Bianca was really unconscious of the equivocal position in which she might find herself placed before the world.
"You see, Bianca," she continued, gravely, "a young girl cannot act as you have done without laying herself open to very disagreeable things being said of her. Do you suppose that any man would wish to marry you were it to be known that—well, that any such episode as has occurred had happened to you? Most decidedly he would not. Nevertheless, my brother is ready to overlook what another would not overlook, on account of the affection he entertains for you. He knows that you were not to blame so much as that thoughtless young man who ventured to—to persuade you to give him an interview."
"He was not to blame," interrupted Bianca, quickly. "He would have gone away if I had told him to do so, but I did not tell him."
"It does not matter," continued the princess, hurriedly, anxious to avoid a discussion on the subject at that particular moment. "You may be sure that it was only an impudent attempt to compromise you. But the world would never take that into consideration. With my brother, however, it is different."