Girard. He spoke to the chef with the kindly
familiarity born of long knowledge.
After having given the Count his scrambled eggs, the young waitress came
over to where Sylvia was sitting. "Would Madame like to have her coffee
in the garden?" she asked; and Sylvia said that she would.
How enchanting was the garden of the Villa du Lac, and how unlike any
hotel garden she had ever seen! The smooth, wide lawn was shaded with
noble cedars and bright green chestnut trees; it was paradise compared
with the rather stuffy little Hotel de l'Horloge and the dusty Paris
streets.
M. Polperro himself brought Sylvia's coffee. Then he stayed on talking to
her, for like all clever hotel-keepers the Southerner had the gift of
making those who were staying in his house feel as if they were indeed
his guests rather than his clients.
"If Madame should ever care to make a little stay at Lacville, how happy
Madame Polperro and I would be!" he exclaimed. "I have a beautiful room
overlooking the lake which I could give Madame. It was reserved for a
Russian Princess, but now she is not coming--"
"Perhaps I will come and stay here some day," said Sylvia, and she really
felt as if she would like to come and stay in the Villa du Lac.
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