Long before the others had finished, Count Paul got up; before leaving the dining-room, he turned and bowed ceremoniously to Sylvia and her companion. With his disappearance it seemed to Chester that Sylvia at once became her natural, simple, eager, happy self. She talked less, she listened more, and at last Chester began to enjoy his holiday. They went out again into the garden, and the wide lawn, with its shaded spaces of deep green, was a delicious place in which to spend a quiet, idle hour. They sat down and drank their coffee under one of the cedars of Lebanon. "This is a very delightful, curious kind of hotel," he said at last. "And I confess that now I understand why you like Lacville. But I do wonder a little, Sylvia"--he looked at her gravely--"that you enjoy going to that Casino." "You see, there's so very little else to do here!" she exclaimed, deprecatingly. "And then, after all, Bill, I don't see what harm there is in risking one's money if one can afford to do so!" He shook his head at her--playfully, but seriously too. "Don't you?" he asked dryly. "Why, there's Madame Wachner," said Sylvia suddenly, and Chester thought there was a little touch of relief in her voice. "Madame Wachner?" And then the Englishman, gazing at the stout, squat figure which was waddling along the grass towards them, remembered. This was the good lady who had been so kind to him the night before; nay, who had actually offered to give him a bed if the Pension Malfait had been closed. "We 'ave lunched in the town," she said, partly addressing Chester, "and so I thought I would come and ask you, Madame Sylvia, whether you and your friend will come to tea at the Villa des Muguets to-day?" She fixed her bright little eyes on Sylvia's face. Sylvia looked at Chester; she was smiling; he thought she would like him to accept. "That is very kind of you," he said cordially. Sylvia nodded her head gaily: "You are more than kind, dear Madame Wachner," she exclaimed. "We shall be delighted to come! I thought of taking Mr. Chester a drive through the Forest of Montmorency. Will it do if we are with you about five?" "Yes," said Madame Wachner. And then, to Chester's satisfaction, she turned and went away. "I cannot stay now," she said, "for l'Ami Fritz is waiting for me. 'E does not like to be kept waiting." "What a nice woman!" said Chester heartily, "and how lucky you are, Sylvia, to have made her acquaintance in such a queer place as this. But I suppose you have got to know quite a number of people in the hotel?" "Well, no--," she stopped abruptly. She certainly had come to know the Comte de Virieu, but he was the exception, not the rule. "You see, Bill, Lacville is the sort of place where everyone thinks everyone else rather queer! I fancy some of the ladies here--they are mostly foreigners, Russians, and Germans--think it very odd that I should be by myself in such a place." She spoke without thinking--in fact she uttered her thoughts aloud.