Forgive me, I will not so err again."
And then, with one of his sudden, stiff bows, the Comte de Virieu turned
on his heel, leaving Sylvia to make her way alone to the little wooden
gate on which were painted the words "Chalet des Muguets."
CHAPTER XVIII
Sylvia pushed open the little white gate of the Chalet des Muguets and
began walking up the path which lay through the neglected, untidy garden.
To eyes accustomed to the exquisitely-kept gardens of an English country
town, there was something almost offensive in the sight presented by the
high, coarse grass and luxuriant unkemptness of the place, and once more
Sylvia wondered how the Wachners could bear to leave the land surrounding
their temporary home in such a state.
But the quaint, fantastic-looking, one-storeyed chalet amused and rather
interested her, for it was so entirely unlike any other dwelling with
which she was acquainted.
To-day a deep, hot calm brooded over the silent house and
deserted-looking garden; the chocolate-coloured shutters of the
dining-room and the drawing-room were closed, and Sylvia told herself
that it would be delightful to pass from the steamy heat outside into the
dimly-lighted, sparsely-furnished little "salon," there to have a cup of
tea and a pleasant chat with her friends before accompanying them in the
cool of the early evening to the Casino.
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