stone dwelling was in the style of an old French period when buildings were square and three stories high. It had a flat roof with a cupola for a lookout.
“Isn’t it lovely here?” Bess remarked as she looked around at the green lawns, the well-trimmed shrubs, and the flowering bushes.
As Nancy stopped the car at the front entrance, the door opened and Monsieur and Madame Bardot came out to greet them. At once the girls could see that Marie resembled her mother and Monique her father. The couple were most gracious in their welcome and led the visitors inside.
The furnishings were charming but not elaborate. They gave the chateau an atmosphere of warm hospitality, which was enhanced by vases of beautiful flowers.
The Bardots spoke perfect English, but upon learning that the girls could converse in French, Monsieur Bardot advised them to speak only in French during their visit. “I believe it will help you in your sleuthing,” he added.
No further reference was made to the mystery at the moment, for suddenly excited barking came from the rear of the house. The next moment a miniature black poodle raced into the living room. She jumped up on the girls, wagging her tail briskly.
“Fifi! Get down!” Madame Bardot commanded.
“Oh, we don’t mind,” said Nancy. “She’s very cute.”
The girls took turns patting Fifi. When she finally became calm, Nancy said, “Monique told me that the dog sleeps in an antique kennel.”
Madame Bardot smiled. “Actually, we should call it a bed, since we keep it in the house. Would you like to see it?”
She led the guests across the center hall into a combination library and game room. In one corner stood the most unusual dog bed the Americans had ever seen. The square frame, surrounding a blue satin cushion, was of gilded wood with an arched canopy of blue velvet. The headboard was covered in blue-and-white-striped satin.
“This was built in the early eighteenth century,” Madame Bardot explained.
“How darling!” Bess commented. “Does Fifi really sleep in the bed? It looks so neat.”
Monsieur Bardot laughed. “Every time Fifi comes into the house she is brushed off and her feet washed!” His eyes twinkled as if he were teasing his wife, who pursed her lips in pretended hurt.
The visitors’ baggage was brought in, and the girls were shown to Marie’s and Monique’s bedrooms. They loved the wide canopied beds and dainty gold-and-white furniture. Bess and George said they would share the same room.
Conversation during luncheon was confined to Marie and Monique and their trip to the United States. Nancy told about the madrigal singing and how the people of River Heights loved it. The Bardots beamed with pride.
When the meal was over, their hostess arose. “Shall we go out to our patio?” she suggested.
The Bardots led the girls to the rear of the chateau and through a garden filled with roses, mignonettes, and summer lilies.
As soon as the group was seated in comfortable lawn chairs, Madame Bardot leaned forward. “Now please tell us, Nancy, have you had any success with my sister Josette’s mystery?”
Nancy had decided it would be wise not to mention her father’s case and had instructed Bess and George not to. She and the cousins described the various warnings received by Nancy, the helicopter incident, and the Aubert twins.
“I think,” Nancy went on, “that Claude, the one in the United States, left the warnings at the request of his brother Louis.”
“And,” said Bess, “Louis calls himself Monsieur Neuf.”
George put in, “We thought we had found the 99 steps but we were wrong.”
“We may have a new clue to them,” Nancy added. “Do you know of an orange garden in this area?”
After some thought, Monsieur Bardot replied, “At Versailles a double flight of steps leads down from a terrace to L’Orangerie, the orange orchard.”
“You mean,” Nancy said eagerly, “that there are 99 steps in them?”
The Frenchman smiled.