a bowl of white roses--roses that had never grown in the untidy garden
outside. Two dessert dishes were heaped up with delicious cakes--the
cakes for which French pastrycooks are justly famed. There was also a
basin full of the Alpine strawberries which Sylvia loved, and of which
she always ordered a goodly supply at the Villa du Lac. Madame Wachner
had even remembered to provide the thick cream, which, to a foreign
taste, spoils the delicate flavour of strawberries.

They were really very kind people, these Wachners!

Looking round the funny little dining-room, Sylvia could not help
remembering how uncomfortable she had felt when sitting there alone the
day before. It was hard now to believe that she should have had that
queer, eerie feeling of discomfort and disquietude in such a commonplace,
cheerful room. She told herself that there probably had been some little
creature hidden there--some shy, wild thing, which maybe had crept in out
of the wood.

"And now I will go and make the tea," said Madame Wachner pleasantly, and
Sylvia gaily insisted on accompanying her hostess into the kitchen.

"We shall 'ave a nicer tea than that first time we made tea 'ere
together," said Madame Wachner jovially.

The young Englishwoman shook her head, smiling.

"I had a very good time that afternoon!" she cried. "And I shall always
feel grateful for your kindness to me and to poor Anna, Madame Wachner.
I do so often wonder what Anna is doing with herself, and where she is
staying in Paris." She looked wistfully at her companion.