Why should she not go into the house and rest awhile? The more so that the Wachners would almost certainly return home very soon. They disliked Paris, and never stayed more than a couple of hours on their occasional visits there. In her careful, rather precise French, she told the servant she would come in and wait. "I am sure that Madame Wachner would wish me to do so," she said, smiling; and after a rather ungracious pause the woman admitted her into the house, leading the way into the darkened dining-room. "Do you think it will be long before Madame Wachner comes back?" asked Sylvia. The woman hesitated--"I cannot tell you that," she mumbled. "They never say when they are going, or when they will be back. They are very odd people!" She bustled out of the room for a few moments and then came back, holding a big cotton parasol in her hand. "I do not know if Madame wishes to stay on here by herself? As for me, I must go now, for my work is done. Perhaps when Madame leaves the house she will put the key under the mat." "Yes, if I leave the house before my friends return home I will certainly do so. But I expect Madame Wachner will be here before long." Sylvia spoke shortly. She did not like the day-servant's independent, almost rude way of speaking. "Should the master and mistress come back before Madame has left, will Madame kindly explain that she _insisted_ on coming into the house? I am absolutely forbidden to admit visitors unless Madame Wachner is here to entertain them." The woman spoke quickly, her eyes fixed expectantly on the lady sitting before her. Mrs. Bailey suddenly realised, or thought she realised, what that look meant. She took her purse out of her pocket and held out a two-franc piece. "Certainly," she answered coldly, "I will explain to Madame Wachner that I insisted on coming in to rest." The woman's manner altered; it became at once familiar and servile. After profusely thanking Sylvia for her "tip," she laid the cotton parasol on the dining-table, put her arms akimbo, and suddenly asked, "Has Madame heard any news of her friend? I mean of the Polish lady?" "No," Sylvia looked up surprised. "I'm sorry to say that there is still no news of her, but, of course, there will be soon." She was astonished that the Wachners should have mentioned the matter to this disagreeable, inquisitive person. "The lady stopped here on her way to the station. She seemed in very high spirits." "Oh, no, you are quite mistaken," said Sylvia quickly. "Madame Wolsky did not come here at all the day she left Lacville. She was expected, both to tea and to supper, but she did not arrive--" "Indeed, yes, Madame! I had to come back that afternoon, for I had forgotten to bring in some sugar. The lady was here then, and she was still here when I left the house."