is not what English people call
'proper' for you to go to the Casino alone, or only accompanied by
a stranger--for I, alas! am still a stranger to you."

There was no touch of coquetry or flirtation in the voice in which he
said those words. Sylvia blushed violently, but she did not feel annoyed,
only queerly touched by his solicitude for--well, she supposed it was for
her reputation.

"You see, Madame," he went on soberly, "you look very young--I mean,
pardon me, you _are_ very young, and I will confess to you that the first
time I saw you I thought you were a 'Miss.' Of course, I saw at once that
you were English."

"An English girl would hardly have come all by herself to Lacville!" said
Sylvia a little flippantly.

"Oh, Madame, English young ladies do such strange things!"

Sylvia wondered if the Count were not over-particular. Was Lacville the
sort of place in which a woman could not walk a few yards by herself? It
looked such a happy, innocent sort of spot.

"Perhaps I do not make myself clear," went on Count Paul.

He spoke very quickly, and in a low voice, for they were now approaching
the door of the Casino. "Not very long ago a lady had her hand-bag
snatched from her within a few yards of the police-station, in the centre
of the town. Everyone comes here to make or to lose money--"

"But most of the people look so quiet and respectable," she said smiling.

"That is true, but there are the exceptions. Lacville contains more
exceptions than do most places, Madame."

They were now in the hall of the Casino. Yes, there was Anna Wolsky
looking eagerly at the great glass doors.

"Anna? Anna? Here I am! I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Sylvia turned to introduce the Comte de Virieu to Madame Wolsky, but
he was already bowing stiffly, and before she could speak he walked on,
leaving Mrs. Bailey with her friend.

"I see you've already made one acquaintance, Sylvia," said the Polish
lady dryly.

"That's the man who was so kind the last time we were here together. He
is staying at the Villa du Lac," Sylvia answered, a little guiltily. "His
name is Count Paul de Virieu."

"Yes, I am aware of that; I know him by sight quite well," Anna said
quickly.

"And he has offered to propose me as a member of the Club if I wish to
join," added Sylvia.

"_I_ shall propose you--of course!" exclaimed Anna Wolsky. "But I do not
think it is worth worrying about your membership to-night. We can spend
the evening downstairs,