Princess Montefiano bent her head without speaking.
"Are you sure," proceeded Don Agostino, "that in your determination to oppose Donna Bianca's love for Silvio Rossano you are not running the grave risk of bringing about the very state of things you wish to avoid? Ah, madame," he continued, earnestly, "I must ask for your patience—for your pardon—if I seem to interfere in matters which you might justly tell me can be no concern of mine. You fear lest your step-daughter may have inherited her mother's nature. Well, I believe your fears to be justified. Her mother loved once, and once only, during her lifetime, and, strangely enough, under circumstances almost identical with those accompanying Donna Bianca's attachment. She was forced to marry a man she did not love, in order to satisfy the prejudices and the ambition of her family. What was the result, madame? Disaster—unhappiness. What will be the result of pursuing the same course with the daughter as that pursued with the mother—in the case of two natures so similar?
"And whom will you bring forward in the place of young Rossano? Some Roman with a title borrowed from his father, but with nothing else; some young spendthrift who, like many we could name, has paid his court to every rich American, to every wealthy foreign girl, Christian or Jewess, in the hope of buying her fortune with his name—and who will use his wife's money to pay off his creditors and to support a mistress. We need not—we who know Rome—seek far in order to find such examples, princess. You talk of responsibility. Do you venture to contemplate what responsibility for such a course would mean?"
He spoke earnestly, gravely, with a note of warning in his voice which silenced the objections already rising to Princess Montefiano's lips. The princess did not know very much of the under-currents of life, but she was sufficiently well acquainted with the world to be aware that Monsignor Lelli had not exaggerated his presentment of them. Perhaps, too, she contrasted in her own mind his simple, straightforward statements with the more flowery moral speeches she had been accustomed to hear from the Abbé Roux.
"I want my step-daughter to marry happily," she repeated; "and—yes, I will see this young man, monsignore. But I will not give my consent to my step-daughter marrying him until I have satisfied myself that he is worthy to be her husband. The fact of the Rossanos not being noble, is, after all, not an insuperable difficulty—one hears of cases every day in which traditions of class are departed from—"
"It is a mere question of money," interrupted Don Agostino. "And money, to make a very banal remark, does not always bring happiness; whereas love— Princess," he added, abruptly, "I feel sure that you will not repent your action in receiving this young Rossano. I will bring him to you; and then, if you will permit me, I will leave you to speak with him alone. Afterwards, if you wish to see me, I shall be entirely at your service."
"Certainly, monsignore!" exclaimed Princess Montefiano, hurriedly. "There is much that I wish to learn
XXXV
Don Agostino was amused to find Silvio engaged in earnest conversation with Concetta Fontana outside the court-yard of the castle. The open space beyond the gateway, lately the scene of so much confusion, was now entirely deserted; for the peasants had retired into the paese, where all the Montefianesi—men, women, and children—were busy discussing the events of the last few hours at the tops of their voices.
It was evident that Silvio was making the best of his opportunities to learn from Concetta all that she might be able to tell him concerning Bianca, and also as to how she had acquired her information concerning the understanding between the Abbé Roux and Monsieur d'Antin. It was evident, also, that Concetta was readily imparting all the information she had to give on the subject, for the pair were so engrossed in their conversation that they were unaware of Don Agostino's approach.