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Updated: June 23, 2025
Madame Wachner's warning as to saying as little as possible of the other's departure from Lacville had made very little impression on Sylvia, yet it so far affected her that, instead of telling Monsieur Polperro of the fact the moment she was back at the Villa du Lac, she went straight up to her own room.
"Yes, of course!" cried Sylvia. They drew up two rush-bottomed chairs to the table and sat down. Sylvia thoroughly enjoyed this first taste of Madame Wachner's hospitality. The drive and the great heat had made her feel tired and languid, and the tea did her good. "I will go and see if the carriage is there," said Madame Wachner at last.
It was painful to be reminded of him now, in this way, and by a woman who she knew disliked and despised him. She suddenly felt sorry that she had accepted the Wachner's invitation. To-night the way to the Châlet des Muguets seemed longer than usual far longer than it had seemed the last time Sylvia had walked there, when Count Paul had been her companion.
How fortunate that Sylvia had come across such a nice, simple, kindly woman in such a queer place as Lacville! But Madame Wachner's good-natured proposal had never to be seriously considered, for when her vigorous hand found and pulled the bell there came sounds in the courtyard beyond, and a moment later the door swung open. "Who's there?" cried M. Malfait in a loud voice.
After the kitchen, this bed-room struck Sylvia as being the pleasantest room in the Châlet des Muguets, and that although, like the dining-room and drawing-room, it was extraordinarily bare. There was no chest of drawers, no dressing-table, no cupboard to be seen. Madame Wachner's clothes hung on pegs behind the door, and there was a large brass-bound trunk in a corner of the room.
Madame Wachner's face was red, and she was plainly very angry and put out. But when she saw that she and her husband had attracted the attention of their English friends, she made a great effort to regain her self-control and good humour. "Very well," she said, "Very well, Fritz! Do not speak to me as if I were an ogress or a dragon. I am your wife; it is my duty to obey you.
"I should like to go home now," she said quietly, "for it is getting late," her voice shook a little. She was desperately afraid of disgracing herself by a childish outburst of tears. "I can make my way back quite well without Monsieur Wachner's escort." She saw her host shrug his shoulders. He made a grimace at his wife; it expressed annoyance, nay, more, extreme disapproval.
While in the act of opening the door of Madame Wachner's bed-room, the young Englishwoman stopped and caught her breath. Again she had suddenly experienced that unpleasant, eerie sensation the sensation that she was not alone. But this time the feeling was far more vivid than it had been in the dining-room.
It was indeed a funny little place, this brick-built bungalow, so fantastically and, to his British eyes, so ridiculously decorated with blue china lozenges, on which were painted giant lilies of the valley. But he had not long to look, for as the car drew up before the white gate Madame Wachner's short, broad figure came hurrying down the path.
It would be pleasant to rest a while in the Wachner's villa and have tea there. Sylvia was in the mood to enjoy every new experience, however trifling, and she had never been in a French private house. "Au Châlet des Muguets," called out Madame Wachner to the driver. He nodded and turned his horse round.
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