rier engaged a sleeping compartment for the first stage of
the long journey to Marseilles, but though it was a comfort to lie down
and stretch her weary limbs, there was little sleep for Sylvia that
night. She was up and gazing out of the window by six o'clock in the
morning, and the day seemed endless despite the interest of the scenes
through which she passed. "Through thy cornfields green, and sunny
vines, O pleasant land of France."

The lines which she had read in her youth came back to memory as the
train crossed the broad waters of the Loire and sped through valleys of
grapes and olives, surrounded by hills of smiling green. The sun was
hot in these southern plains, and the dust blew in clouds through the
windows; it was a relief when evening fell again, and brought the end of
the long journey.

Sylvia stepped on to the platform and looked around with eager gaze.
Although she had never met her father's friends, she knew their
appearance sufficiently well from photographs and descriptions to be
able to distinguish them from strangers, but nowhere could she see
either husband or wife. It was unkind to leave her unwelcomed and with
no word to allay her anxiety, and she had hard work to keep back her
tears as her companion ran about collecting the scattered pieces of
luggage.

She was so tired mentally and physically that this last disappointment
was too much for her endurance, and she thanked God that in a few
minutes the strain would be over, and she would be seated by her
father's side. They drove along the quaint, foreign streets, and
presently arrived at the hotel itself, a large building set back in a
courtyard in which visitors sat before little tables, smoking and
drinking their after-dinner coffee.

They looked up curiously as Sylvia passed, but no one came forward to
meet her, and the waiter gesticulated dumbly in answer to her
questionings, and led the way upstairs without vouchsafing a word in
reply. It was humiliating to think that her accent had so degenerated
as to be unrecognisable in his ears, but there was no other explanation,
and it was at least evident that she was expected, since he seemed in no
doubt as to where to conduct her first. He turned down a corridor to
the right, stopped at the second door, and threw it open, and Sylvia saw
with surprise that it was not a bedroom, but a sitting-room, in which a
lady and a gentleman were already seated.

The gentleman leapt to his feet, wh