He was driven away, like so many other excellent people.

So the Villa du Lac is now an hotel, where doubtless Madame has friends ?" Sylvia bowed and thanked him.

Yes, the Villa du Lac even now looked like a delightful and well-kept private house, rather than like an hotel.

It stood some way back--behind high wrought-steel and gilt gates--from the sandy road which lay between it and the lake, and the stone-paved courtyard was edged with a line of green tubs, containing orange trees.
Sylvia walked through the gates, which stood hospitably open, and when she was half-way up the horseshoe stone-staircase which led to the front door, a man, dressed in the white dress of a French chef, and bearing an almost ludicrous resemblance to M.Girard, came hurrying out.
"Madame Bailey ?" he exclaimed joyously, and bowing very low.

"Have I the honour of greeting Madame Bailey?
My cousin telephoned to me that you might be coming, Madame, to dejeuner!" And as Sylvia smiled in assent: "I am delighted, I am honoured, by the visit of Madame Bailey!" Sylvia laughed outright.