"Madame," he replied, "between two people who are young and good-looking, love is always a simple matter! It is in its results that complications arise."
"Monsieur l'Abbé!" exclaimed the princess.
"Precisely," he proceeded—"in its results. It is from these results that we must try to save Donna Bianca."
Princess Montefiano seemed as though she were about to give way to uncontrollable agitation.
"But it is impossible!" she cried. "Great God—it is impossible! Bianca is little more than a child still. You do not mean to suggest—what can I say? The thought is too horrible!"
The Abbé Roux rubbed his hands gently together. "We will trust things are not quite so serious as that," he said, slowly. "Indeed," he added, "I do not for a moment believe that they are so. Nevertheless, my informant declares that the interview between the two lovers was—well, of a very passionate nature. I fear, madame, you have been mistaken in looking upon Donna Bianca as merely a child."
The princess groaned. "That is what my brother has told me more than once of late," she said.
"He has said the same to me," remarked the abbé. "Monsieur your brother is, as one may say, a keen observer," he added.
"But what can we do?" exclaimed Princess Montefiano, almost hysterically. "Good Heavens!" she continued; "how thankful I am that I telegraphed to you! I can rely on your discretion, monsieur, as a friend—as a priest!"
"As both, madame," returned the abbé, bowing. "The situation is certainly a difficult one, and Donna Bianca, through her inexperience, has no doubt placed herself in an equivocal position. Unfortunately, the world never forgets an indiscretion committed by a young girl; and, as I have said, there was a witness to Donna Bianca's last interview with this young man. That is to say, this individual could hear, though he could not see, all that passed between them."