The couple looked different from the people about them; in a word, they did not look French.

“The man—­their name is Wachner—­only plays on a system,” whispered Anna.  “He is in fact what I call a System Maniac.  That is why he keeps noting down the turns in his little book.  That sort of gambler ought never to leave Monte Carlo.  It is only at Monte Carlo—­that is to say, at Roulette—­that such a man ever gets a real chance of winning anything.  I should have expected them to belong to the Club, and not to trouble over this kind of play!”

Even as she spoke, Anna slightly inclined her head, and the woman at whom they were both looking smiled broadly, showing her strong white teeth as she did so; and then, as her eyes travelled from Anna Wolsky to Anna’s companion, they became intent and questioning.

Madame Wachner, in spite of her unwieldy form, and common, showy clothes, was fond of beautiful things, and especially fond of jewels.  She was wondering whether the pearls worn by the lovely young Englishwoman standing opposite were real or sham.

The two friends did not stay very long in the Casino on that first evening.  Sylvia drove Anna to the Pension Malfait, and then she came back alone to the Villa du Lac.

* * * * *

Before drawing together the curtains of her bed-room windows, Sylvia Bailey stood for some minutes looking out into the warm moonlit night.

On the dark waters of the lake floated miniature argosies, laden with lovers seeking happiness—­ay, and perhaps finding it, too.

The Casino was outlined with fairy lamps; the scene was full of glamour, and of mysterious beauty.  More than ever Sylvia was reminded of an exquisite piece of scene painting, and it seemed to her as if she were the heroine of a romantic opera—­and the hero, with his ardent eyes and melancholy, intelligent face, was Count Paul de Virieu.

She wondered uneasily why Anna Wolsky had spoken of the Count as she had done—­was it with dislike or only contempt?

Long after Sylvia was in bed she could hear the tramping made by the feet of those who were leaving the Casino and hurrying towards the station; but she did not mind the sound.  All was so strange, new, and delightful, and she fell asleep and dreamt pleasant dreams.

CHAPTER VI

On waking the next morning, Sylvia Bailey forgot completely for a moment where she was.

She looked round the large, airy room, which was so absolutely unlike the small bed-room she had occupied in the Hotel de l’Horloge, with a sense of bewilderment and surprise.

And then suddenly she remembered!  Why of course she was at Lacville; and this delightful, luxurious room had been furnished and arranged for the lady-in-waiting and friend of the Empress Eugenie.  The fact gave an added touch of romance to the Hotel du Lac.