"There is nothing to prevent them from doing so, certainly," replied the Abbé Roux. "They could get themselves married ecclesiastically, no doubt, but not legally. It would hardly be worth an adventurer's while to burden himself with a wife over whose fortune he would have no legal rights."
"He might prefer to establish rights over her person," said Monsieur d'Antin, dryly. "Young men--are young men; and this one, unless I am greatly mistaken, thinks more of Donna Bianca's face than her fortune."
The Abbé Roux shrugged his shoulders. "He seems to be on the high road to establish those rights already," he observed, "if one is to judge by what you overheard. The blessing of the Church is not invariably sought in cases of this kind," he added.
Monsieur d'Antin chuckled. "True," he replied, "the girl is inexperienced, and of a temperament--oh, but of a temperament--" He paused abruptly.
The abbé looked at him quickly. Then he smiled a curious little smile not altogether in keeping with his clerical attire.
"Ah," he said, "I think, Monsieur le Baron, that you have had occasion to remark on this--this delicate subject before, have you not? The princess mentioned to me some time ago that you had told her you thought she was mistaken in believing her step-daughter to be still a child. You have evidently been studying Donna Bianca attentively. After all, she is a very attractive young lady, and is developing greater beauty every few months. But your warning to Madame la Princesse has turned out to be singularly justified by subsequent events. One sees that you have an insight into female character, Monsieur le Baron."
Monsieur d'Antin looked at him suspiciously for a moment, and then he laughed good-humoredly.
"What would you have, my dear abbé?" he asked. "I am not such an old man--yet; and I am not a priest. I have my little experiences--yes--and I am not often mistaken about a woman," and Monsieur d'Antin slapped himself encouragingly on the breast. "I will make you a little confession, my friend," he continued, gayly. "It is of no consequence that I am smoking a cigarette, and that you do not happen to have your stole on--you can give me absolution all the same. I find my 'niece,' as you choose to call her, charming--absolutely charming. It is a thousand pities that she has so hopelessly compromised herself with this mysterious young man, for if the story becomes known, when my sister wants to find a husband for her it will not be such an easy matter to do so. Ah, my dear Monsieur l'Abbé, had I only been younger, a very few years younger, I would have come forward and said: 'I, Philippe d'Antin, will marry you, and protect you from the evil tongues of the world. I pardon your youthful indiscretion, and I make you the Baroness d'Antin.'"