Sylvia Bailey felt very much amused. So poor "Ami Fritz" was not allowed to gamble unless his wife were there to see that he did not go too far. No wonder he had looked impatient and eager, as well as cross! He had been engaged--that was clear--in putting down the turns of the game, and in working out what were no doubt abstruse calculations connected with his system. The Club was very full, and it was a little difficult at that hour of the late afternoon to get near enough to a table to play comfortably; but a stranger had kindly kept Anna Wolsky's place for her. "I have been quite lucky," she whispered to Sylvia. "I have made three hundred francs, and now I think I will rest a bit! Slip in here, dear, and I will stand behind you. I do not advise you to risk more than twenty francs the first time; on the other hand, if you feel _en veine_, if the luck seems persistent--it sometimes is when one first plays with gold--then be bold, and do not hesitate!" Sylvia, feeling rather bewildered, slipped into her friend's place, and Anna kept close behind her. With a hand that trembled a little, she put a twenty-franc piece down on the green table. After doing so she looked up, and saw that the Comte de Virieu was standing nearly opposite to her, on the other side of the table. His eyes were fixed on her, and there was a very kind and indulgent, if sad, smile on his face. As their glances met he leant forward and also put a twenty-franc piece on the green cloth close to where Sylvia's money lay. The traditional words rang out: "_Faites vos jeux, Messieurs, Mesdames! Le jeu est fait! Rien ne va plus!_" And then Sylvia saw her stake and that of the Count doubled. There were now four gold pieces where two had been. "Leave your money on, and see what happens," whispered Anna. "After all you are only risking twenty francs!" And Sylvia obediently followed the advice. Again there came a little pause; once more the words which she had not yet learnt to understand rang out in the croupier's monotonous voice. She looked round her; there was anxiety and watchful suspense on all the eager faces. The Comte de Virieu alone looked indifferent. A moment later four gold pieces were added to the four already there. "You had better take up your winnings, or someone may claim them," muttered Anna anxiously. "Oh, but I don't like to do that," said Sylvia. "Of course you must!" She put out her hand and took up her four gold pieces, leaving those of the Count on the table. Then suddenly she put back the eighty francs on the cloth, and smiled up at him; it was a gay little shame-faced smile. "Please don't be cross with me, kind friend,"--that is what Sylvia's smile seemed to say to Paul de Virieu--"but this is so _very_ exciting!" He felt stirred to the heart. How sweet, how confidingly simple she looked! And--and how very beautiful. He at once loved and hated to see her there, his new little "_amie Anglaise_!"