It was clear to him from the first that there must be some reason why she had not married, and the somewhat disparaging remarks concerning her which he heard from time to time excited his curiosity.  As he had always intended to consult the head of his family upon the matter he now determined to do so at once.  He was not willing, indeed, to let matters go any further until he had ascertained the truth concerning her, and he was sure that Prince Saracinesca would tell him everything at the first mention of a proposal to marry her.  The old gentleman had too much pride to allow his cousin to make an unfitting match.  Accordingly, on the day following the events last narrated San Giacinto called after breakfast and found the prince, as usual, alone in his study.  He was not dozing, however, for the accounts of the last night’s doings in the Osservatore Romano were very interesting.

“I suppose you have heard all about Montevarchi’s daughter?” asked Saracinesca, laying his paper aside and giving his hand to San Giacinto.

“Yes, and I am delighted at the conclusion of the adventure, especially as I have something to ask you about another member of the family.”

“I hope Flavia has not disappeared now,” remarked the prince.

“I trust not,” answered San Giacinto with a laugh.  “I was going to ask you whether I should have your approval if I proposed to marry her.”

“This is a very sudden announcement,” said Saracinesca with some surprise.  “I must think about it.  I appreciate your friendly disposition vastly, my dear cousin, in asking my opinion, and I will give the matter my best consideration.”

“I shall be very grateful,” replied the younger man, gravely.  “In my position I feel bound to consult you.  I should do so in any case for the mere benefit of your advice, which is very needful to one who, like myself, is but a novice in the ways of Rome.”

Saracinesca looked keenly at his cousin, as though expecting to discover some touch of irony in his tone or expression.  He remembered the fierce altercations he had engaged in with Giovanni when he had wished the latter to marry Tullia Mayer, and was astonished to find San Giacinto, over whom he had no real authority at all, so docile and anxious for his counsel.

“I suppose you would like to know something about her fortune,” he said at last.  “Montevarchi is rich, but miserly.  He could give her anything he liked.”

“Of course it is important to know what he would like to give,” replied San Giacinto with a smile.

“Of course.  Very well.  There are two daughters already married.  They each had a hundred thousand scudi.  It is not so bad, after all, when you think what a large family he has—­but he could have given more.  As for Flavia, he might do something generous for the sake of—–­”

The old gentleman was going to say, for the sake of getting rid of her, and perhaps his cousin thought as much.  The prince checked himself, however, and ended his sentence rather awkwardly.