hing to be done here at all, Sophie!
It is foolish of us to waste our time like this!" And then Madame Wachner
answered quickly, "You are always so gloomy, so hopeless! I tell you
there _is_ something to be done. Leave it to me!"

Then, suddenly becoming aware that Sylvia was standing beside her, the
old woman went on: "My 'usband, Madame, always says there is nothing to
be done! You see, 'e is tired of 'is last system, and 'e 'as not yet
invented another. But, bah! I say to 'im that no doubt luck will come
to-day. 'E may find Madame Wolsky a mascot." She was very red and looked
disturbed.

"I 'ave asked them to telephone for an open carriage," Madame Wachner
added, in a better-humoured tone. "It will be here in three or four
minutes. Shall we drive you first to the Casino?" This question she asked
of her husband.

"No," said Monsieur Wachner, harshly, "certainly not! I will walk in any
case."

"And I will walk too," said Anna, who had just come up. "There is no need
at all for us to take you out of your way. You had better drive at once
into the open country, Sylvia."

And so they all started, Madame Wolsky and her tall, gaunt, morose
companion, walking, while Sylvia and Madame Wachner drove off in the
opposite direction.

The country immediately round Lacville is not pretty; the little open
carriage was rather creaky, and the horse was old and tired, and yet
Sylvia Bailey enjoyed her drive very much.

Madame Wachner, common-looking, plain, almost grotesque in appearance
though she was, possessed that rare human attribute, vitality.

Sometimes she spoke in French, sometimes in English, changing from the
one to the other with perfect ease; and honestly pleased at having
escaped a long, dull, hot afternoon in the Casino, the older woman set
herself to please and amuse Sylvia. She thoroughly succeeded. A clever
gossip, she seemed to know a great deal about all sorts of interesting
people, and she gave Sylvia an amusing account of Princess Mathilde
Bonaparte, whose splendid chateau they saw from their little carriage.

Madame Wachner also showed the most sympathetic interest in Sylvia and
Sylvia's past life. Soon the Englishwoman found herself telling her new
acquaintance a great deal about her childhood and girlhood--something
even of her brief, not unhappy, married life. But she shrank back, both
mentally and physically, when Madame Wachner carelessly observed, "Ah,
but soon you will marry again; no doubt you