"Oh, but your pretty dress! Would it not get 'urt in the kitchen?" cried
Madame Wachner deprecatingly.
But she allowed Sylvia to follow her into the bright, clean little
kitchen, of which the door was just opposite the drawing-room.
"What a charming little _cuisine_!" cried Sylvia smiling. She was glad to
find something that she could honestly praise, and the kitchen was, in
truth, the pleasantest place in the house, exquisitely neat, with the
brass _batterie de cuisine_ shining and bright. "Your day servant must be
an exceptionally clean woman."
"Yes," said Madame Wachner, in a rather dissatisfied tone, "she is well
enough. But, oh, those French people, how eager they are for money! Do
you suppose that woman ever stays one minute beyond her time? No,
indeed!"
Even as she spoke she was pouring water into a little kettle, and
lighting a spirit lamp. Then, going to a cupboard, she took out two cups
and a cracked china teapot.
Sylvia did her part by cutting some bread and butter, and, as she stood
at the white table opposite the kitchen window, she saw that beyond the
small piece of garden which lay at the back of the house was a dense
chestnut wood, only separated from the Chalet des Muguets by a straggling
hedge.
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