"Ah, my friend, I feared that was coming!" exclaimed his wife,
shaking her head. "But remember what happened the last time we were
at Lacville--I mean the afternoon when you lost seventy francs!"

"But you forget that other afternoon!" answered the man eagerly. "I
mean the afternoon when I made a hundred francs, and bought you and
the children a number of delightful little gifts with the money!"

Sylvia was amused. How quaint and odd French people were! She could
not imagine such an interchange of words between an English husband and
wife, especially before a stranger. And then her amusement was further
increased, for the youngest child, a boy of about six, cried out that he
also wished to go to the Casino with his dear papa.

"No, no, my sweet cabbage, that will happen quite soon enough, when thou
art older! If thou art in the least like thy father, there will certainly
come a time when thou also wilt go and lose well-earned money at the
Tables," said his mother tenderly.

"But if I win, then I shall buy thee a present," said the sweet cabbage
coaxingly.

Sylvia looked out of the window. These happy, chattering people made her
feel lonely, and even a little depressed.

The country through which the train was passing was very flat and
ugly--in fact, it could scarcely be called country at all. And when at
last they drew up into the large station of what was once a quiet, remote
village where Parisian invalids, too poor to go elsewhere, came to take
medicinal waters, she felt a pang of disappointment. Lacville, as seen