In the mean time, Don Agostino had been regarding Monsieur d'Antin with a peculiar expression, which was certainly not that of a person convinced of the truth of what he had just heard.
"You wish me to understand, then," he said to him, dryly, "that you merely pretended to fall in with the Abbé Roux's suggestions, in order to ascertain how far your suspicions that he was abusing his position as confidential adviser to Madame la Princesse were correct?"
Monsieur d'Antin turned to him with admirable dignity.
"Assuredly, monsignore," he replied. "Do you presume, then, to suppose that I should lend myself to a conspiracy to deceive my own sister, and to enrich an unworthy individual at her and Donna Bianca Acorari's expense? No, monsieur! I may have my little weaknesses where women are concerned, and I frankly admit that had Donna Bianca not rejected my advances I should have considered myself a very happy man. But where my honor is concerned, Monsieur le Curé, or the honor of my family, I, Philippe d'Antin, have no weaknesses!"
Don Agostino looked at him hard, and his finely moulded lips curved in an ironical smile.
"I make you my compliments, Monsieur le Baron," he said, quietly. "One sees that you have done your best to protect yourself from possible misconstructions being placed upon your actions."
Monsieur d'Antin bowed and smiled benignly.
"Precisely," he said, suavely. "You, monsignore, as a man of the world, will understand—"
"Everything," interposed Don Agostino, with a slight shrug of the shoulders.
At this moment Princess Montefiano, who had been listening attentively to all that had passed, suddenly rose from her chair.