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Updated: June 26, 2025
She wondered very much what the inside of the funny little villa she saw before her would be like. In any case, the outside of the Châlet des Muguets was almost ludicrously unlike the English houses to which she was accustomed. Very strange, quaint, and fantastic looked the one-storey building, standing far higher than any bungalow Sylvia had ever seen, in a lawn of high, rank grass.
It would not be fair to let her private griefs sadden the kindly Wachners. It was really good of them to have asked her to come back to supper at the Châlet des Muguets. She would have found it terribly lonely this evening at the Villa du Lac.... "I am quite ready," she said, addressing herself more particularly to Madame Wachner; and the three walked out of the Club rooms.
Beyond the patch of shade thrown by the house the sun beat down on a ragged, unkempt lawn, but across the lawn she noticed, much more particularly than she had done on the two former occasions when she had been in the house, that there lay a thick grove of chestnut trees just beyond the grounds of the Châlet des Muguets.
And even those who would deny that proposition must admit that every inhabited dwelling has its own special nationality. The Châlet des Muguets was typically French and typically suburban; but where it differed from thousands of houses of the same type, dotted round in the countrysides within easy reach of Paris, was that it was let each year to a different set of tenants.
"I ask you to come and 'ave tea with me," said Madame Wachner turning to Sylvia. "We are not very far from the Châlet des Muguets, and I 'ave some excellent tea there. We will 'ave a rest, and tell the man to come back for us in one hour. What do you think of that, Madame?" "It is very kind of you," said Sylvia gratefully; and, indeed, she did think it very kind.
This femme de ménage had a disagreeable face; there was a cunning, avaricious look in her eyes, or so Mrs. Bailey fancied; no doubt she remembered the couple of francs which had been given to her, or rather extorted by her, on the occasion of the English lady's last visit to the Châlet des Muguets. "I will not say more," the servant went on, speaking very quickly, and under her breath.
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.
Madame Wachner caught his glance, and the thought crossed her mind uncomfortably that she had perhaps made a mistake, a serious mistake, in asking this priggish-looking Englishman to come to the Châlet des Muguets. He evidently did not like the look of the place. "You wonder to see our garden so untidy," she exclaimed, regretfully. "Well, it is the owner's fault, not ours!
And so, for the second time, Sylvia visited the odd, fantastic-looking Châlet des Muguets, and under very pleasant auspices. This evening the bare dining-room she had thought so ugly wore an air of festivity. There were flowers on the round table and on the buffet, but, to her surprise, a piece of oilcloth now hid the parquet floor.
Late one afternoon and they all four always met each afternoon at the Casino Madame Wachner suddenly invited Sylvia and Anna to come back to supper at the Châlet des Muguets. Anna was unwilling to accept the kindly invitation. It was clear that she did not wish to waste as much time away from the Casino as going to the Wachners' villa would involve.
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