Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 91, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 April 1912 — The Grand Babylon Hotel [ARTICLE]

The Grand Babylon Hotel

(Copyright The Frank A. Munsey Co.) —-o ~x?;: CHAPTER 111. _ \At3A. M. Mr. Reginald Dimmoch proved himself, despite his extreme youth, to be a man of the world and of experience, and a practiced talker. Conversation between him and Nella Racksole seemed never to flag. They chattered about St. Petersburg and the ice on the Neva, and the tenor at the opera who had been exiled to Siberia, and the quality of Russian tea, and the sweetness of Russian champagne, and various other aspects of Muscovite existence. *

> Dimmock gave very meager information about his own movementstelther past or future. He regarded the youth as a typical hanger on of courts, and wondered how he had obtained his post of companion to Prince Aribert of Posen and who the Prince might be. The millionaire thought he had. once heard of Posen, but he wasn’t sure; he rather fancied it was one of those smal nondescript German states of which five-sixths of- the shbjects are palace officials and the rest charcoal burners or innkeepers. Until the meal was nearly over Rackgole said little—perhaps his thoughts were too busy with Jule’s wink to Mr. Dimmock —but when ices had been followed by coffee he decided that it might be as well, in the interests of the hotel, to discover something about his daughter’s friend. He never for an instant questioned her right to possess her own friends; he had always left her in the most amazing liberty, relying upon her to keep out of mischief, but, quite apart from the wink, he was struck by Nella’s attitude toward Mr. Dimmock, an attitude in which an amiable scorn was blended with an evident desire to propitiate and please. “Nella tells me, Mr. Dimmock, that you hold a confidential position with Prince Arlbert of Posen,” said Sacksole. “You will pardon an American’s Ignorance, but is Prince Arlbert a reigning prince?” “His highness is not a reigning prince nor ever likely to be,” answered Dimmock. “The grand ducal throne of Posen is occupied by his highness’ nephew, the Grand Duke Eugen.” “Nephew?” cried Nella with aston-

ishment. "Why not, dear lady?” ' “But Prince Aribert is surely very young?” “The Prince, by one of those vagaries of chance which sometime occur in the history of families, is precisely the same age as the Grand Duke. The late Grand Duke’s father was twice married. Hence this youthfulness on the part of an uncle.” “How”delicious to be the uncle of someone as old as yourself! But I suppose it is no fun for Prince Aribert. I suppose he has to be frightfully respectful add obedient and all that to his nephew.” “The Grand Duke and my serene master are like brothers. At present, of course. Prince Aribert is nominally heir"to the throne, but, as no doubt you are aware, the Grand Duke will shortly marry a relative of the Emperor’s, and should there be a family”—Mr. Dimmock stopped and shrugged his straight shoulders. . "The Grand Duke,” he went on, without finishing the last sentence, “would much prefer Prince Aribert to be his successor. He really doesn’t want to marry. Between ourselves, strictly between ourselves, he regards marriage as rather a bore. But, of course, being a German grand duke, he is bound to marry. He owes it to his country, to Posen.” . “For so discreet a person,” thought Racksoie, “you are fairly communicative.” Then he added aloud, “Shall we go out on the terrace?” ; As they crossed the dining room Jules stopped Mr. Dimmock and handed him a letter. "Just come, sir, by messenger,” said Jules. Nella dropped behind for a jjecond with her father.

“Leave me alone with this boy a little—there's a dear parent*' she whispered in his ear. ™-“I am a cipher, an obedient nobody,” Racksole replied, pinchiqg her arm surreptitiously. “Treat me as such. Use me as you like. I will go and look after my hotel.” • And soon afterward he disappeared. Nella and Mr. Dimmock sat together on the terrace, sipping iced drinks. Entreating a thousand pardons, Reginald Dimmock, after he had glanced at the note, excused himself on the plea of urgent business for his serene master, uncle of the Grand Duke of Posen. He asked if he, might fetch Mr. Racksole or escort Miss Racksole to her father. But Miss Racksole said gaily that she felt no need of an escort and should go to bed. She added that her father and herself always endeavored to be independent of each other. Just then Theodore Racksole had found his way once more into Mr. Babylon’s private room. Before arriving there, however, he had discovered that in some mysterious manner the news of the change of proprietorship had worked its way down to the lowest strata of the hotel’s cosmos. The corridors hummed with it, and even underservants were to be seep discussing the thing just as though it mattered to them. “Have a cigar, Mr. Racksole,” said the urbane Mr. Babylon, “and a mouthful of the oldest cognac in all Europe.” In a few minutes theste two were talking rapidly, eagerly. Felix Babylon was astonished at Racksole’s capacity for absorbing the details of hotel management, and as for Racksole, he soon realized that Felix Babylon must be a prince of hotel managers. It had never occurred to Racksole before that to manage a hotel, even a large hotel, could be a specially interesting affair, or that it could make any excessive demand upon the brains of the manager ; but he came to see that he had underrated the possibilities of a hotel. The business of the Grand Babylon was enormous. It took Racksole, with all his genius for organization, exactly half an hour to master the details of the hotel laundry work. And the laundry work was but one branch of activity amid scores, and not a very large one at that. Finally Felix Babylon, in a moment of absent-mindedness, yawned. Racksole looked at the gilt clock on the high mantelpiece. "Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “It’s 3 o’clock. Mr. Babylon, accept my apologies for having kept you up to such an absurd hour.” ‘ ;7

“I have not spent so pleasant an evening for many years. You have let me ride my hobby to my heart’s content. It is I who should apologize.” Racksole rose. “I should like'to ask you one question,” said Babylon. “Have you ever had anything to do with hotels before?” “Never,” said Racksole. “Then you have missed your vocation. You could have been the greatest of all hotel managers. You would have been even greater than myself, and I am unequaled, though I keep only one hotel, and some men have half a dozen. Mr. Racksole, why have you pever run a hotel?” “Heaven knows!” he laughed. “But you flatter me, Mr. Babylon.” “I? Flatter You do not know me. I flatter no one, except perhaps now and then an exceptionally distinguished 'guest. In which case I give suitable instructions as to the bill.” “Speaking of distinguished guests, I am told that a couple of German princes are coming here tomorrow.” “That is so.” “Does one do anything? Does one receive them formally—stand bowing in the entrance hall or anything of that sort?”

“Not necessarily. Not unless one wishes. The modern hotel proprietor is not like an innkeeper of the Middle Ages, and even princes do not expect to see him unless something should happen to go wrong. “As a matter of fact, though, the Grand Duke of Posen and Prince Aribert have both honored me by staying here before, I have never even set my eyes on them. You will find air arrangements have been made." They talked a little while longer, and then Racksole said goodnight. “Let me see you to your room. The lifts will be closed and the plac# will be deserted. As for myself, I sleep here," and Mr. Babylon pointed to an inner door. “No, thanks,” said Racksole. “Let me explore my own hotel -unaccompanied. I believe I can discover my room.” When he got fairly into the passages Racksole was not so sure that he could discover his own rdom. The number was 107, but he had forgotten whether it was the first or second floor. Traveling in a lift, one is unconscious of floors. 4 The hotel W—mad vast, rm nanny, do-