a Catholic College
called Beaumont, near Windsor; but now I do not go there as often as
I should like to do."

And then, scarcely knowing how it came about, Sylvia fell into easy,
desultory, almost intimate talk with this entire stranger. But there was
something very agreeable in his simple serious manners.

After a while Sylvia suddenly remembered that the Count had thrown his
cigarette away before speaking to her.

"Won't you smoke?" she said.

"Are you sure you don't mind, Madame?"

"No, of course I don't mind!" and she was just going to add that her
husband had been a great smoker, when some feeling she could not have
analysed to herself made her alter her words to "My father smoked all day
long--"

The Count got up and went off towards the house. Sylvia supposed he had
gone to get his cigarette-case; but a moment later he came back and sat
down by her again. And then very soon out came the host's pretty little
niece with a shawl over her arm. "I have brought Madame a shawl," said
the girl, smiling, "for it's getting a little cold," and Sylvia felt
touched. How very kind French people were--how kind and how thoughtful!

It struck half-past eight. Mrs. Bailey and the Comte de Virieu had been
talking for quite a long time.

Sylvia jumped up. "I must go now," she cried, a little regretfully. "I
promised to meet my friend in the hall of the Casino at half-past eight.
She must be there waiting for me, now."

"If you will allow me to do so, I will escort you to the Casino," said
the Count.

Sylvia ran upstairs to put on her hat and gloves. On the table which did
duty for a dressing-table there was a small nosegay of flowers in a glass
of water. It had not been there before she had come down to dinner.

As she put on a large black tulle hat she told herself with a happy smile
that Lacville was an enchanting, a delightful place, and that she already
felt quite at home here!

The Comte de Virieu was waiting for her in the hall.

"I think I ought to introduce myself to you, Madame," he said solemnly.
"My name is Paul de Virieu."

"And mine is Sylvia Bailey," she said, a little breathlessly.

As they were hurrying along the short piece of road which led to the lane
in which the Casino of Lacville is situated, the Count said suddenly,
"Will you pardon me, Madame, if I take the liberty of saying that you
should arrange for your friend to call for you on those evenings that you
intend to spend at the Casino? It