is what I ask myself. You have
not looked well lately, Sylvia. You have looked very sad sometimes. Oh,
do not be afraid, you are quite as pretty as ever you were!"

The tears were running down Sylvia's face. She felt that she ought to be
very angry with her friend for speaking thus plainly to her, and yet she
could not be angry. Anna spoke so tenderly, so kindly, so delicately.

"Shall we go away from Lacville?" asked Madame Wolsky, suddenly. "There
are a hundred places where you and I could go together. Let us leave
Lacville! I am sure you feel just as I do--I am sure you realise that
the Comte de Virieu would never make you happy."

Sylvia shook her head.

"I do not want to go away," she whispered.

And then Madame Wolsky uttered a short exclamation.

"Ah!" she cried, "I understand. He is the friend you are to meet
to-morrow--that is why you are going into Paris!"

Sylvia remained silent.

"I understand it all now," went on Anna. "That is the reason why he was
not there to-night. He has gone into Paris so as not to compromise you at
Lacville. That is the sort of gallantry that means so little! As if
Lacville matters--but tell me this, Sylvia? Has he ever spoken to you
as if he desired to introduce his family to you? That is the test,
remember--that is the test of a Frenchman's regard for a woman."

There came a knock at the door. "The carriage for Madame has arrived."

They went downstairs, Sylvia having left her friend's last question
unanswered.

Madame Wolsky, though generally so undemonstrative, took Sylvia in her
arms and kissed her.

"God bless you, my dear little friend!" she whispered, "and forgive all
I have said to you to-night! Still, think the matter over. I have lived
a great deal of my life in this country. I am almost a Frenchwoman. It is
no use marrying a Frenchman unless his family marry you too--and I
understand that the Comte de Virieu's family have cast him off."

Sylvia got into the carriage and looked back, her eyes blinded with
tears.

Anna Wolsky stood in the doorway of the Pension, her tall, thin figure in
sharp silhouette against the lighted hall.

"We will meet the day after to-morrow, is that not so?" she cried out.

And Sylvia nodded. As she drove away, she told herself that whatever
happened she would always remain faithful to her affection for Anna
Wolsky.

CHAPTER XIII

The next morning found Paul de Virieu walking up and down platform No. 9
of the Gare du