evening there each day. They do not start till nine o'clock in the
evening, and they are back, having spent a very pleasant, or sometimes
an unpleasant, soirée, before midnight."

"A hundred and twenty trains!" repeated Sylvia, amazed. "But why do so
many people want to go to Lacville?"

Again the hotel-keeper stared at her with a questioning look. Was it
possible that pretty Madame Bailey did not know what was the real
attraction of Lacville? Yet it was not his business to run the place
down--as a matter of fact, he and his wife had invested nearly a thousand
pounds of their hard-earned savings in their relation's hotel, the Villa
du Lac. If Madame Bailey really wanted to leave salubrious, beautiful
Paris for the summer, why should she not go to Lacville instead of to
dull, puritanical, stupid Switzerland?

These thoughts rushed through the active brain of M. Girard with amazing
quickness.

"Many people go to Lacville in order to play baccarat," he said lightly.

And then Sylvia knew why Anna Wolsky had gone to Lacville.

"But apart from the play, Lacville is a little paradise, Madame," he went
on enthusiastically. "It is a beauteous spot, just like a scene in an
opera. There is the romantic lake, edged with high, shady trees and
princely villas--and then the gay, the delightful Casino!"

"And is there a train soon?"