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His sister, the Duchesse d'Eglemont, who had journeyed all the way from Brittany to see him for two or three days, had received him with that touch of painful affection which the kindly and the prosperous so often bestow on those whom they feel to be at once beloved and prodigal.
But yes of that there could be no doubt, for it was addressed, "Madame Bailey, Villa du Lac, Lacville-les-Bains." She opened it to find that the note contained a gracefully-worded invitation to déjeuner for the next day, and the signature ran "Marie-Anne d'Eglemont." Why, it must be Paul de Virieu's sister! How very kind of her, and and how very kind of him.
For the first time Sylvia and Marie-Anne d'Eglemont were alone together. "I wish to thank you for your kindness to my poor Paul," the Duchesse spoke in a low, hesitating voice. "You have so much influence over him, Madame." Sylvia shook her head. "Ah! But yes, you have!" She looked imploringly at Sylvia. "You know what I mean? You know what I would ask you to do?
His sister, the Duchesse d'Eglemont, had come up from the country for a few days, and the great pleasure and delight he had expressed at the thought of seeing her had given the young English widow a little pang of pain. It made her feel how little she counted in his life after all.
"Of course, 'e will do so!" the other spoke quite crossly, "Did I not tell you, Sylvia, that our day servant heard from M. Polperro's wife, whose sister is cook to the Duchesse d'Eglemont, that the Comte de Virieu 'as been left an immense fortune by 'is godmother? Well, it is a fortune that will soon melt" she chuckled, as if the thought was very pleasant to her.
The Duchesse d'Eglemont had sent her maid to Lacville with the riding habit she was lending Sylvia, and by a word M. Polperro let fall, the Englishwoman realised, with mingled confusion and amusement, that the hotel-keeper supposed her to be an old and intimate friend of Count Paul's sister. The other people in the hotel began to treat her with marked cordiality.
"Last week I had only M. le Comte Paul de Virieu no doubt Madame has heard of his brother-in-law, the Duc d'Eglemont?" Sylvia smiled. "Yes, he won the Derby, a famous English race," she said; and then, simply because the landlord's love of talking was infectious, "And does the Count own horses, too?" she asked. "Oh, no, Madame.
Count Paul postponed his departure for Paris till after dinner, and not till she went up to dress did Sylvia sit down to write her answer to the Duchesse d'Eglemont. For a long while she held her pen in her hand. How was she to address Paul de Virieu's sister?
And now, instead of working, he is content to live on an allowance made to him by his sister's husband, the Duc d'Eglemont. If I were you, I should keep on very distant terms with him. He is, no doubt, always looking out for a nice rich woman to marry." Sylvia made no answer.
Huge iron doors, that looked as if they could shut out an invading army, were flung open, and after a moment's pause, Paul de Virieu led Sylvia Bailey across the threshold of the historic Hôtel d'Eglemont.
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