Suddenly the old parish church of Lacville chimed out the hour—­it was only one o’clock—­amazingly early still!

Someone coming across the road lifted his hat.  Could it be to her?  Yes, for it was the young man who had shared with her, for a time, the large dining-room of the Villa du Lac.

Again Sylvia was struck by what she could only suppose were the stranger’s good manners, for instead of staring at her, as even the good-humoured bourgeois with whom she had travelled from Paris that morning had done, the Count—­she remembered he was a Count—­turned sharply to the right and walked briskly along to the turning which led to the Casino.

The Casino?  Why, of course, it was there that she must look for Anna Wolsky.  How stupid of her not to have thought of it!  And so, after waiting a moment, she also joined the little string of people who were wending their way towards the great white building.

After having paid a franc for admission, Sylvia found herself in the hall of the Casino of Lacville.  An eager attendant rushed forward to relieve her of the dust-cloak and parasol which she was carrying.

“Does Madame wish to go straight to the Room of the Games?” he inquired eagerly.

Sylvia bent her head.  It was there, or so she supposed, that Anna would be.

Feeling a thrill of keen curiosity, she followed the man through a prettily-decorated vestibule, and so into a large room, overlooking the lake, where already a crowd of people were gathered round the green baize tables.

The Salle des Jeux at Lacville is a charming, conservatory-like apartment, looking, indeed, as if it were actually built out on the water.

But none of the people were looking at the beautiful scene outside.  Instead, each group was intent on the table, and on the game being played thereon—­a game, it may be mentioned, which has a certain affinity with Roulette and Petits Chevaux, though it is neither the one nor the other.

Sylvia looked about her timidly; but no one took the slightest notice of her, and this in itself was rather strange.  She was used to exciting a good deal of attention wherever she went in France, but here, at Lacville, everyone seemed blind to her presence.  It was almost as if she were invisible!  In a way this was a relief to her; but at the same time, she found it curiously disconcerting.

She walked slowly round each gambling table, keeping well outside the various circles of people sitting and standing there.

Strange to say Anna Wolsky was not among them.  Of that fact Sylvia soon became quite sure.

At last a servant in livery came up to her.  “Does Madame want a seat?” he asked officiously.  “If so, I can procure Madame a seat in a very few moments.”

But Sylvia, blushing, shook her head.  She certainly had no wish to sit down.

“I only came in to look for a friend,” she said, hesitatingly; “but my friend is not here.”