And then, rather to her surprise, after they had all enjoyed ices and cakes at Madame Wachner’s expense, Anna Wolsky and l’Ami Fritz declared they were going back to the Casino.

“I don’t mean to play again to-night,” said Sylvia, firmly.  “I feel dreadfully tired,” and the excitement had indeed worn her out.  She longed to go back to the Hotel du Lac.

Still, she accompanied the others to the Club, and together with Madame Wachner, she sat down some way from the tables.  In a very few minutes they were joined by the other two, who had by now lost quite enough gold pieces to make them both feel angry with themselves, and, what was indeed unfair, with poor Sylvia.

“I’m sure that if you had played again, and if we had followed your play, we should have added to our winnings instead of losing, as we have done,” said Anna crossly.

“I’m so sorry,” and Sylvia felt really distressed.  Anna had never spoken crossly to her before.

“Forgive me!” cried the Polish woman, suddenly softening.  “I ought not to have said that to you, dear little friend.  No doubt we should all have lost just the same.  You know that fortune-teller told me that I should make plenty of money—­well, even now I have had a splendid day!”

“Do come back with me and have dinner at the Villa du Lac,” said Sylvia eagerly.

They shook hands with the Wachners, and as they walked the short distance from the Casino to the villa, Sylvia told Anna all about her visit to the Chalet des Muguets.

“They seem nice homely people,” she said, “and Madame Wachner was really very kind.”

“Yes, no doubt; but she is a very strict wife,” answered Anna smiling.  “The poor man had not one penny piece till she came in, and he got so angry and impatient waiting for her!  I really felt inclined to lend him a little money; but I have made it a rule never to lend money in a Casino; it only leads to unpleasantness afterwards.”

In the hall of the Villa du Lac the Comte de Virieu was standing reading a paper.  He was dressed for dinner, and he bowed distantly as the two ladies came in.

“Why, there is the Comte de Virieu!” exclaimed Anna, in a low, and far from a pleased tone.  “I had no idea he was staying here.”

“Yes, he is staying here,” said Sylvia, blushing uneasily, and quickly she led the way upstairs.  It wanted a few minutes to seven.

Anna Wolsky waited till the door of Sylvia’s room was shut, and then,

“I cannot help being sorry that you are staying in the same hotel as that man,” she said, seriously.  “Do not get to know him too well, dear Sylvia.  The Count is a worthless individual; he has gambled away two fortunes.  And now, instead of working, he is content to live on an allowance made to him by his sister’s husband, the Duc d’Eglemont.  If I were you, I should keep on very distant terms with him.  He is, no doubt, always looking out for a nice rich woman to marry.”