The salon, floored entirely with iron-wood, was painted in a style
that suggested the beauties of Chinese lacquer. On black panels edged
with gold, birds of every color, foliage of impossible greens, and
fantastic oriental designs glowed and shimmered. The dining-room was
entirely sheathed in Northern woods carved and cut in open-work like
the beautiful Russian chalets. The little antechamber formed by the
landing and the well of the staircase was painted in old oak to
represent Gothic ornament. The bedrooms, hung with chintz, were
charming in their costly simplicity. The study, where the cashier and
his wife now slept, was panelled from top to bottom, on the walls and
ceiling, like the cabin of a steamboat. These luxuries of his
predecessor excited Vilquin's wrath. He would fain have lodged his
daughter and her husband in the cottage. This desire, well known to
Dumay, will presently serve to illustrate the Breton obstinacy of the
latter.

The entrance to the Chalet is by a little trellised iron door, the
uprights of which, ending in lance-heads, show for a few inches above
the fence and its hedge. The little garden, about as wide as the more
pretentious lawn, was just now filled with flowers, roses, and dahlias
of the choicest kind, and many rare products of the hot-houses, for
(another Vilquinard grievance) the elegant little hot-house, a very
whim of a hot-house, a hot-house representing dignity and style,
belonged to the Chalet, and separated, or if you prefer, united it to
the villa Vilquin. Dumay consoled himself for the toils of business in
taking care of this hot-house, whose exotic treasures were one of
Modeste's joys. The billiard-room of the villa Vilquin, a species of
gallery, formerly communicated through an immense aviary with this
hot-house. But after the building of the wall which deprived him of a
view into the orchards, Dumay bricked up the door of communication.