This pompous servant showed extraordinary affability and politeness toward me, which caused me to wonder how I should have been received by him had I been a shoemaker, a carpenter, or some other honest son of toil, whose labor increases the wealth of the world, instead of a moneyed gentleman of leisure and extravagance, as he evidently supposed me to be.
"Your secretary has deposited five thousand dollars to your credit here, Mr. Convert," said he, handing me a blank cheque book, "so if you will kindly give me your signature for certification, you can then draw upon that amount as you see fit."
In astonishment I was about to inform him that I had no secretary, and that the money was not mine, when it occurred to me that perhaps Arletta, or her agent, if she had one, must have pretended to be my secretary. So I said nothing and did as requested.
Upon being shown to my apartments, a handsomely furnished suite of two rooms and a bath, upon the tenth floor, I was further amazed to find therein a trunk, two dress-suit cases, a traveling bag, and six suits of fine clothes, made in different styles, from an evening dress to a sack business suit. And the bedstead, tables and bureaus were literally covered with articles, such as a bath-robe, pajamas, underwear, shirts, collars, cuffs, gloves, hats, shoes, etc., all brand new and marked "John Convert." Upon the dressing case was a small jewel box, containing several kinds of gold cuff buttons, diamond scarf pins, and a solid gold watch, on the inside of which was inscribed, "From Arletta to John."
It took some time for me to get over the wonderment into which I was plunged at the sight of these things, and the contemplation of how far Arletta intended going before ceasing her benevolent acts towards me, but after spending an hour or two in becoming accustomed to my surroundings and putting the various articles away into the bureaus and wardrobes, I decided to make a general survey of the entire hotel premises.
I learned that the Waldoria Hotel was thirty stories high, and covered an entire block in the most fashionable district in New York City. In many ways it resembled a small city in itself, containing a bank, theatre, music hall, photograph gallery, art studio, gymnasium, laundry, electric plant, Turkish baths, tonsorial apartments, brokers' offices, library, and various ball-rooms, besides four different restaurants, two cafes, and several reception and smoking rooms for the use of its patrons.
The entire roof of the building was utilized as a promenade and summer garden for musical entertainments.
The hotel could accommodate about three thousand guests, who occupied apartments, the rentals of which cost from three to one hundred and fifty dollars per day. About two thousand employees were necessary to keep the establishment in good running order. Each floor had a separate clerk and corps of attendants, and nobody could gain admission to any of the apartment floors except the occupants and their guests.
All of the apartments of the hotel, from the magnificent "Royal Suite" to the single bedrooms of the transients, were furnished in the most luxurious manner possible. Costly draperies, priceless paintings, and exquisite furnishings of every description, adorned the drawing-rooms, ball-rooms, foyers and restaurants. Statues of ancient personages ornamented the different hallways, while the carved marble and woodwork seen everywhere showed splendid workmanship. Sweet strains of music from the orchestras stationed in different balconies could be heard in most any part of the building.
Seated on either side of the long, commodious corridors, on lounges overhung by palms and tropical plants of various descriptions, were men and women of the fashionable set, who represented the largest portion of wealth of the community.