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! You would not believe such a thing of a Frenchman, but 'e actually made us promise that we would do nothing—no, nothing at all, to 'is garden. 'E spoke of sending a man once a week to see after it, but no, 'e never did so."
"I have often wondered," broke in Sylvia frankly, "why you allowed your garden to get into such a state, but now, of course, I understand. What a very odd person your landlord must be, Madame Wachner! It might be such a delightful place if kept in good order. But I'm glad you have had the grass cut. I remember the first time I came here the grass was tremendously high, both in front and behind the house. Yesterday I saw that you have had it cut."
"Yes," said Madame Wachner, glancing at her, "yes, we had the grass cut a few days ago. Fritz insisted on it."
"If it had been as high as it was the first time I came here, I could never have made my way through it to the delightful little wood that lies over there, behind the châlet," went on Sylvia. "I don't think I told you that I went over there yesterday and waited a while, hoping that you would come back."
"You went into the wood!" echoed Madame Wachner in a startled tone. "You should not have done that," she shook her head gravely. "We are forbidden to go into the wood. We 'ave never gone into the wood."
L'Ami Fritz stood waiting for his visitors in the narrow
