The Metropolis

Montague also betook himself to gazing about. He noted the great double windows, with sashes of bronze; the bronze fire-proof doors; the bronze electric candles and chandeKers, from which the room was flooded with a soft radiance at the touch of a button; the "duchesse" and "marquise" chairs, with upholstery matching the walls; the huge leather " slumber-couch,' with adjustable lamp at its head. When one opened the door of the dressing-room closet, it was automatically filled with light; there was an adjustable three-sided mirror, at which one could study his own figure from every side. There was a Uttle broJize box near the bed, in which one mi^t set his shoes, and with a locked door opening out into the hall, so that the floor-porter could get them without disturbing one. Each of the bath-rooms was the size of an ordinary man's parlour, with floor and walls of snow-white marble, and a door composed of an im-jorted plate-glass mirror. There was a great porcelain tub, with glass handles upon the wall jy which you could help yourself out of it, and a shower-bath with hnen duck curtains, which were changed every day; and a marble slab upon which you might lie to be rubbed by the masseur who would come at the touch of a button.

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There was no end to the miracles of this establishment, as Montague found in the course of time. There was no chance that the antique bronze clock on the mantel might go wrong, for it was electrically controlled from the office. You did not open the window and let in the dust, for the room was automatically ventilated, and you turned a switch marked "hot" and "cold.'' The office would furnish you a guide who would show you the establishment; and you might see your bread being kneaded by electricity, upon an opal glass table, and your eggs being tested by electric light; you might peer into huge refrigerators, ventilated by electric tans, and in which each tiny lamb chop reposed in a separate holder. Upon your own floor was a pantry, provided with hot and cold storage-rooms and an air-tight dumb-waiter; you might have your own private linen and crockery and plate, and your own family butler, if you wished. Your children, however, would not be permitted in the building, even though you were dying — this was a small concession which you made to a host who had invested a million dollars and a half in furniture alone.

A few minutes later the telephone bell rang, and Oliver answered it and said, "Send him up."

"Here's the tailor," he remarked, as he hung up the receiver.

"Whose tailor?" asked his brother.

"Yours," said he.

"Do I have to have some new clothes.?" Montague asked.

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"You haven't any clothes at present," was the reply.

Montague was standing in front of the "cos-turner," as the elaborate mirror was termed. He looked himself over, and then he looked at his brother. Oliver's clothing was a little like the Circassian walnut; at first you thought that it was simple, and even a trifle careless — it was only by degrees you realised that it was original and distinguished, and very expensive.

"Won't your New York friends make allowance for the fact that I am fresh from the country?" asked Montague, quizzically.

"They might," was the reply. "I know a hundred who would lend me money, if I asked them. But I don't ask them."

"Then how soon shall I be able to appear.?" asked Montague, with visions of himself locked up in the room for a week or two.

"You are to have three suits to-morrow morning," said Oliver. " Genet has promised."

'Suits made to order.?" gasped the other, in perplexity.

' He never heard of any other sort of suits," said Oliver, with grave rebuke in his voice.

M. Genet had the presence of a Russian grand duke, and the manner of a court chamberlain. He brought a subordinate to take Montague's measure, while he himself studied his colour-scheme. Montague gathered from the conversation that he was going to a house-party in the country the next morning, and that he would need a dress suit, a hunting-suit, and a "morning coat." The rest might wait until his return.

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The two discussed him and his various "points " as they might have discussed a horse; he possessed distinction, he learned, and a great deal could be done with him — with a little skill he might be made into a personality. His French was not in training, but he managed to make out that it was M. Genet's opinion that the husbands of New York would tremble when he made his appearance among them.

When the tailor had left, Alice came in, with her face shining from a cold bathing. "Here you are decking yourselves out!" she cried. "And what about me.'*"

"Your problem is harder," said Oliver, with a laugh; but you begin this afternoon. Reggie Mann is going to take you with him, and get you some dresses. '

"What!" gasped Alice. "Get me some dresses! A man.?"

"Of course," said the other. "Reggie Mann advises half the women in New York about their clothes."