Chester,
so the Frenchman with his wide disillusioned knowledge of life felt only
too sure, would win Sylvia in time.
"Shall we go in and find out the time of the Swiss express?" he asked the
other man, "or perhaps you have already decided on a train?"
"No, I haven't looked one out yet."
They strolled off together towards the house, and Sylvia walked blindly
on to the grass and sat down on one of the rocking-chairs of which M.
Polperro was so proud.
She looked after the two men with a sense of oppressed bewilderment. Then
they were both going away--both going to leave her?
After to-day--how strange, how utterly unnatural the parting seemed--she
would probably never see Paul de Virieu again.
* * * * *
The day went like a dream--a fantastic, unreal dream.
Sylvia did not see Count Paul again alone. She and Chester went a drive
in the afternoon--the expedition had been arranged the day before with
the Wachners, and there seemed no valid reason why it should be put off.
And then Madame Wachner with her usual impulsive good nature, on hearing
that both Chester and the Comte de Virieu were going away, warmly invited
Sylvia to supper at the Chalet des Muguets for that same night, and
Sylvia listlessly accepted.
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