It was to this man’s establishment that Mascarin conducted Paul after a sumptuous breakfast at Philipe’s. It is necessary to give a slight description of Van Klopen’s establishment. Carpets of the most expensive description covered the stairs to his door on the first floor, at which stood the liveried menials resplendent in gold lace and scarlet. As soon as Mascarin made his appearance, one of these gorgeous creatures hastened to him and said, “M. Van Klopen is just now engaged with the Princess Korasoff, but as soon as he hears of your arrival he will manage to get rid of her. Will you wait for him in his private room?” But Mascarin answered,-- “We are in no hurry, and may as well wait in the public room with the other customers. Are there many of them?” “There are about a dozen ladies, sir.” “Good; I am sure that they will amuse me.” And, without wasting any more words, Mascarin opened a door which led into a magnificent drawing-room, decorated in very florid style. The paper on the walls almost disappeared beneath a variety of watercolor sketches, representing ladies in every possible style of costume. Each picture had an explanatory note beneath it, such as “Costume of Mde. de C--- for a dinner at the Russian Ambassador’s,” “Ball costume of the Marchioness de V--- for a ball at the Hotel de Ville,” etc. Paul, who was a little nervous at finding himself among such splendor, hesitated in the doorway; but Mascarin seized his young friend by the arm, and, as he drew him to a settee, whispered in his ear,-- “Keep your eyes about you; the heiress is here.” The ladies were at first a little surprised at this invasion of the room by the male element, but Paul’s extreme beauty soon attracted their attention. The hum of conversation ceased, and Paul’s embarrassment increased as he found a battery of twelve pairs of eyes directed full upon him. Mascarin, however, was quite at his ease, and upon his entrance had made a graceful though rather old-fashioned bow to the fair inmates of the room. His coolness was partly due to the contempt he felt for the human race in general, and also to his colored glasses, which hid the expression of his countenance. When he saw that Paul still kept his eyes on the ground, he tapped him gently on the arm. “Is this the first time you ever saw well-dressed women? Surely you are not afraid of them. Look to the right,” continued Mascarin, “and you will see the heiress.”