The abbé hesitated for a moment. Then he said, quietly: "No, madame, I am not amazed at all."
The princess stared at him. "Not amazed at all?" she re-echoed. "But—"
"May I ask," he interrupted, "if you have spoken to Donna Bianca of this—this offer?"
"Offer!" exclaimed the princess, scornfully. "I do not call it an offer; I call it an insult—at least, it would be an insult if it were not a stupidity. No, I have not as yet mentioned the subject to Bianca. I thought I would wait until I had consulted with you. You see, Monsieur l'Abbé, it is a delicate matter to discuss with a young girl, because, if there is any love at all in the matter, it can only be a case of love at first sight on the part of this youth—and for love at first sight there is another name—"
The abbé smiled. "Exactly, madame," he said. "You are very wise not to mention the senator's letter to Donna Bianca. It would be better that she should never know it had been written. At the same time, if you read the letter carefully, you will observe that the young man believes his affection to be reciprocated."
The princess shrugged her shoulders. "The vanity of a youth who no doubt thinks himself irresistible," she observed. "How could it be reciprocated? I dare say he has seen Bianca driving, or, at the most, passed her on the staircase."
"I am inclined to think," said the abbé, "that he has more reason than this to believe Donna Bianca to be not indifferent to him."
Princess Montefiano started visibly.
"Mon Dieu, monsieur, what do you mean?" she exclaimed.
The Abbé Roux carefully refolded the letter, and, placing it in the envelope, returned it to her.