g at a quiet, rural, little country inn, and had seen
himself kindly, if a little shyly, welcomed by Sylvia. He could almost
have laughed at the contrast between the place his fancy had painted and
the place he had found, at what he had thought would happen, and at what
had happened!

As they trudged along, Chester, glancing to his right, saw that there
were still a great many boats floating on the lake. Did Lacville folk
never go to bed?

"Yes," said Madame Wachner, quickly divining his thoughts, "some of the
people 'ere--why, they stay out on the water all night! Then they catch
the early train back to Paris in the morning, and go and work all day.
Ah, yes, it is indeed a splendid thing to be young!"

She sighed, a long, sentimental sigh, and looked across, affectionately,
at L'Ami Fritz.

"I do not feel my youth to be so very far away," she said. "But then, the
people in my dear country are not cynical as are the French!"

Her husband strode forward in gloomy silence, probably thinking over the
money he might have made or lost had he played that evening, instead of
only noting down the turns of the game.

Madame Wachner babbled on, making conversation for Chester.

She was trying to find out something more about this quiet Englishman.
Why had he come to Lacville? How long was he going to stay here? What was
his real relation to Sylvia Bailey?

Those were the questions that the pretty English widow's new friend
was asking herself, finding answers thereto which were unsatisfactory,
because vague and mysterious.

At last she ventured a direct query.

"Are you going to stay long in this beautiful place, Monsieur?"

"I don't know," said Chester shortly. "I don't suppose I shall stay very
long. I'm going on to Switzerland. How long I stay will a little bit
depend on Mrs. Bailey's plans. I haven't had time to ask her anything
yet. What sort of a place is the Villa du Lac?"

He asked the question abruptly; he was already full of dislike and
suspicion of everything, though not of everybody, at Lacville. These
Wachners were certainly nice, simple people.

"Oh, the Villa du Lac is a very respectable 'ouse," said Madame Wachner
cautiously. "It is full of respectable--what do you call them?--dowagers.
Oh, you need have no fear for your friend, sir; she is quite safe there.
And you know she does not often go to the Casino"--she told the lie with
bold deliberation. Some instinct told her that while Chester was at
La