Madame Wachner was now on Sylvia's other side.
"Yes," she interposed, rather breathlessly, "that is so; and I 'ope that you, dear friend, followed the advice we gave you about the matter? I mean, I 'ope you do not leave your money in the hotel?"
"Of course I don't," said Sylvia, smiling. "Ever since you gave me those pretty little leather pouches I always carry all my money about with me, strapped round my waist. At first it wasn't very comfortable, but I have got quite used to it now."
"That is right," said Madame Wachner, heartily, "that is quite right! There are rogues everywhere, perhaps even in the Villa du Lac, if we knew everything!" and Sylvia's hostess laughed in the darkness her hearty, jovial laugh.
Suddenly she bent forward and addressed her husband. "By the way, Ami Fritz, have you written that letter to the Villa du Lac?" She nodded, explaining to Sylvia, "We are anxious to get a room in your beautiful pension for a rich friend of ours."
Sylvia had the instant feeling—she could not have told why—that his wife's question had greatly annoyed Monsieur Wachner.
"Of course I have written the letter!" he snapped out. "Do I ever forget anything?"
"But I'm afraid there is no room vacant in the Villa du Lac," said Sylvia. "And yet—well, I suppose they have not yet had time to let the Comte de Virieu's room. They only knew he was going this morning. But you need not have troubled to write a letter, Monsieur Wachner. I could have given the message when I got back to-night. In any case let me take your letter."
