"Yes," returned Mademoiselle Durand, dryly, "he is in love with somebody. He could marry her, perhaps—"
"Then why doesn't he?" Bianca asked, practically.
Mademoiselle Durand was a little taken aback at the abruptness of the question.
"I will tell you," she replied, after hesitating for a moment or two. "He has no opportunity of seeing the girl, except sometimes as she is driving in her carriage, or well, in church. By-the-way, I believe he first saw her in a church, and fell in love with her. That was odd, was it not? But what is the use of seeing people if you can never speak to them?"
"He could speak to her parents," said Bianca, who apparently knew what was proper under such circumstances.
Mademoiselle Durand shrugged her shoulders.
"Scarcely," she said, "since they are in heaven. Besides, he would not be allowed to ask for this girl's hand in any case. She is like you, of noble birth; and, like you again, she is rich. Those about her, I dare say, are not very anxious that she should marry at all. It is possible."
Bianca Acorari did not speak for a few moments. At length she said, slowly: "I wonder what you would do, mademoiselle, if you knew somebody was in love with you, and you were not allowed to see or speak to that person?"
Mademoiselle Durand looked at her critically.
"It entirely depends," she replied.