‘I am a true American,’ said Racksole, ‘but my father, who began by being a bedmaker at an Oxford college, and ultimately made ten million dollars out of iron in Pittsburg--my father took the wise precaution of having me educated in England. I had my three years at Oxford, like any son of the upper middle class! It did me good. It has been worth more to me than many successful speculations. It taught me that the English language is different from, and better than, the American language, and that there is something--I haven’t yet found out exactly what--in English life that Americans will never get. Why,’ he added, ‘in the United States we still bribe our judges and our newspapers. And we talk of the eighteenth century as though it was the beginning of the world. Yes, I shall transfer my securities to London. I shall build a house in Park Lane, and I shall buy some immemorial country seat with a history as long as the A. T. and S. railroad, and I shall calmly and gradually settle down. D’you know--I am rather a good-natured man for a millionaire, and of a social disposition, and yet I haven’t six real friends in the whole of New York City. Think of that!’ ‘And I,’ said Babylon, ‘have no friends except the friends of my boyhood in Lausanne. I have spent thirty years in England, and gained nothing but a perfect knowledge of the English language and as much gold coin as would fill a rather large box.’ These two plutocrats breathed a simultaneous sigh. ‘Talking of gold coin,’ said Racksole, ‘how much money should you think Jules has contrived to amass while he has been with you?’ ‘Oh!’ Babylon smiled. ‘I should not like to guess. He has had unique opportunities--opportunities.’ ‘Should you consider twenty thousand an extraordinary sum under the circumstances?’ ‘Not at all. Has he been confiding in you?’ ‘Somewhat. I have dismissed him.’ ‘You have dismissed him?’ ‘Why not?’ ‘There is no reason why not. But I have felt inclined to dismiss him for the past ten years, and never found courage to do it.’ ‘It was a perfectly simple proceeding, I assure you. Before I had done with him, I rather liked the fellow.’ ‘Miss Spencer and Jules--both gone in one day!’ mused Felix Babylon. ‘And no one to take their places,’ said Racksole. ‘And yet the hotel continues its way!’ But when Racksole reached the Grand Babylon he found that Miss Spencer’s chair in the bureau was occupied by a stately and imperious girl, dressed becomingly in black. ‘Heavens, Nella!’ he cried, going to the bureau. ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘I am taking Mis Spencer’s place. I want to help you with your hotel, Dad. I fancy I shall make an excellent hotel clerk. I have arranged with a Miss Selina Smith, one of the typists in the office, to put me up to all the tips and tricks, and I shall do very well.’