"Think, my dear--a hundred and twenty trains daily! That room in the Casino where I first saw you will be crammed to suffocation within an hour, and even the Club will be well filled, though I fancy the regular habitues of the club are rather apt to avoid Saturday and Sunday at Lacville.

I myself, when living here, shall try to do something else on those two days.

By the way--how dreadful that I should forget!--have you had a proper _dejeuner_ ?" she looked anxiously at Sylvia.
Sylvia laughed, and told something of her adventures at the Villa du Lac.
"The Villa du Lac?
I have heard of it, but surely it's an extremely expensive hotel?
The place I've chosen for myself is farther away from the Casino; but the distance will force me to take a walk every day, and that will be a very good thing.

Last time I was at Monte Carlo I had a lodging right up in Monaco, and I found that a very much healthier plan than to live close to the Casino," Anna spoke quite seriously.

"The Pension Malfait is really extraordinarily cheap for a place near Paris.
I am only going to pay fifty-five francs a week, _tout compris_!" They had now turned from the road encircling the lake, and were driving through leafy avenues which reminded Sylvia of a London suburb where she had once stayed.
The chalets and villas by which they passed were not so large nor so prosperous-looking as those that bordered the lake, but still many of them were pretty and fantastic-looking little houses, and the gardens were gay with flowers.
"I suppose no one lives here in the winter!" said Sylvia suddenly.
She had noticed, for in some ways she was very observant though in other ways strangely unseeing, that all the flowers were of the bedding-out varieties; there were luxuriant creepers, but not a single garden that she passed had that indefinable look of being an old or a well-tended garden.
"In the winter?
Why, in the winter Lacville is an absolute desert," said Anna laughing.