till Anna Wolsky and
Monsieur and Madame Wachner, or perhaps it should be said Madame Wachner.

It was not wonderful that Mrs. Bailey liked the cheerful woman, who was
so bright and jovial in manner, and who knew, too, how to flatter so
cleverly. When with Madame Wachner Sylvia was made to feel that she was
not only very pretty, but also immensely attractive, and just now she was
very anxious to think herself both.

* * * * *

Late one afternoon--and they all four always met each afternoon at the
Casino--Madame Wachner suddenly invited Sylvia and Anna to come back to
supper at the Chalet des Muguets.

Anna was unwilling to accept the kindly invitation. It was clear that she
did not wish to waste as much time away from the Casino as going to the
Wachners' villa would involve. But, seeing that Sylvia was eager to go,
she gave way.

Now on this particular afternoon Sylvia was feeling rather dull, and, as
she expressed it to herself, "down on her luck," for the Comte de Virieu
had gone into Paris for a few hours.

His sister, the Duchesse d'Eglemont, had come up from the country for
a few days, and the great pleasure and delight he had expressed at the
thought of seeing her had given the young English widow a little pang of
pain. It made her feel how little she counted in his life after all.

And so, for the second time, Sylvia visited the odd, fantastic-looking
Chalet des Muguets, and under very pleasant auspices.

This evening the bare dining-room she had thought so ugly wore an air of
festivity. There were flowers on the round table and on the buffet, but,
to her surprise, a piece of oilcloth now hid the parquet floor. This
puzzled Sylvia, as such trifling little matters of fact often puzzle
a fresh young mind. Surely the oilcloth had not been there on her last
visit to the villa? She remembered clearly the unpolished parquet floor.

Thanks to the hostess and to Sylvia herself, supper was a bright, merry
meal. There was a variety of cold meats, some fine fruit, and a plate of
dainty pastry.

They all waited on one another, though Madame Wachner insisted on doing
most of the work. But L'Ami Fritz, for once looking cheerful and eager,
mixed the salad, putting in even more vinegar than oil, as Mrs. Bailey
laughingly confessed that she hated olive oil!

After they had eaten their appetising little meal, the host went off into
the kitchen where Sylvia had had tea on her first visit t