How many, many times we peeped through the high iron railing at this enchanted domain, sleeping like the castle in the fairy tale.  The garden was overgrown with weeds and shrubbery, the house was shabby and sadly in need of paint.  We sighed and thought how happy would be our fortune if we might some day penetrate the mysteries of the tangled garden and the abandoned villa.  Little did we dream that this would one day be our home.

We first went to Versailles as casual summer visitors and our stay was brief.  We loved it so much that the next summer we went again, this time for the season, and found ourselves members of a happy pension family.  Then we decided to rent an apartment of our own, for the next year, and soon we were considering the leases of houses, and finally we arrived at the supreme audacity of negotiating for the purchase of one.  We had a great friend in Versailles, Victorien Sardou, the novelist and playwright so honored by the people of France.  His wonderful house at Marly le Roi was a constant joy to us, and made us always more eager for a permanent home of our own in the neighborhood.  Sardou was as eager for the finding of our house as we were, and it was he who finally made it possible for us to buy our historic villa.  He did everything for us, introduced us to his friends, wonderful and brilliant people, gave us liberally of his charm and knowledge, and finally gave us the chance to buy this old house and its two acres of gardens.

The negotiations for the house were long and tedious.  Our offer was an insult, a joke, a ridiculous affair to the man who had the selling of it!  He laughed at us, and demanded twice the amount of our offer.  We were firm, outwardly, and refused to meet him halfway, but secretly we spent hours and hours in the old house, sitting patiently on folding camp-stools, and planning the remaking of the house as happily as children playing make-believe.

I remember vividly the three of us, Miss Marbury, Sardou, and I, standing in the garden on a very rainy day.  Sardou was bounding up and down, saying:  “Buy it, buy it!  If you don’t buy it before twelve o’clock to-morrow I will buy it myself!” We were standing there soaking wet, perfectly oblivious to the downpour, wondering if we dared do such an audacious thing as to purchase property so far from our American anchorage.

[Illustration:  A FINE OLD CONSOLE IN THE VILLA TRIANON]

Well, we bought it, and at our own price, practically, and for eight years we have been restoring the house and gardens to their Seventeenth Century beauty.  Sardou was our neighbor, and his wonderful chateau at Marly, overlooking the valley and terraces of St. Germain, was a never-failing surprise to us, so full was it of beauty and charm, so flavored with the personality of its owner.  Sardou was of great help to us when we finally purchased our house.  His fund of information never failed us, there seemed to be no question he could not answer.  He was quite