turned so hot that I feel a few hours in the country would be pleasant,
and I am quite likely to meet her, for I suppose Lacville is not a very
large place, M. Girard?"

The hotel-keeper hesitated; he found it really difficult to give a true
answer to this simple question.

"Lacville?" he repeated; "well--Dame! Lacville is Lacville! It is not
like anything Madame has ever seen. On that I would lay my life. First,
there is a most beautiful lake--that is, perhaps, the principal
attraction;--then the villas of Lacville--ah! they are ravishingly
lovely, and then there is also"--he fixed his black eyes on her--"a
Casino."

"A Casino?" echoed Sylvia. She scarcely knew what a Casino was.

"But to see the Casino properly Madame must go at night, and it would be
well if Madame were accompanied by a gentleman. I do not think Madame
should go by herself, but if Madame really desires to see Lacville
properly my wife and I will make a great pleasure to ourselves to
accompany her there one Sunday night. It is very gay, is Lacville on
Sunday night--or, perhaps," added M. Girard quickly, "Madame, being
English, would prefer a Saturday night? Lacville is also very gay on
Saturday nights."

"But is there anything going on there at night?" asked Sylvia,
astonished. "I thought Lacville was a country place."

"There are a hundred and twenty trains daily from the Gare du Nord to
Lacville," said the hotel-keeper drily. "A great many Parisians spend the