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"I think you call it the kitchen-garden." A smile lit up his face. "The
people who built the Villa du Lac a matter of fifty years ago were very
fond of gardening. I think it might amuse you to see the _potager_. Allow
me to show it you."
They were now walking side by side. It was a delicious day, and the dew
still glistened on the grass and leaves. Sylvia thought it would be very
pleasant, and also instructive, to see a French kitchen-garden.
"Strange to say when I was a child I was often at the Villa du Lac, for
the then owner was a distant cousin of my mother. He and his kind wife
allowed me to come here for my convalescence after a rather serious
illness when I was ten years old. My dear mother did not like me to be
far from Paris, so I was sent to Lacville."
"What a curious place to send a child to!" exclaimed Sylvia.
"Ah, but Lacville was extremely different from what it is now, Madame.
True, there was the lake, where Parisians used to come out each Sunday
afternoon to fish and boat in a humble way, and there were a few villas
built round the lake.


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