"His sister lent me a horse and a riding habit.

It was very kind of her," she raised her voice, and blushed deeply in the rushing wind.
Chester felt his mind suddenly fill with angry suspicion.

Was it possible that this Comte de Virieu, this man of whom that nice Madame Wachner had spoken with such scorn as a confirmed gambler, was "making up" to Sylvia?
It was a monstrous idea--but Chester, being a solicitor, knew only too well that in the matter of marriage the most monstrous and disastrous things are not only always possible but sometimes probable.

Chester believed that all Frenchmen regard marriage as a matter of business.

To such a man as this Count, Mrs.Bailey's fortune would be a godsend.
"Sylvia!" he exclaimed, in a low, stern voice.
He turned round and looked at her.