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THE CLIQUE OF GOLD
THE CLIQUE OF GOLD
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THE CLIQUE OF GOLD
I.
There is not in all Paris a house better kept or more inviting-looking
than No. 23 in Grange Street. As soon as you enter, you are struck by a
minute, extreme neatness, which reminds you of Holland, and almost sets
you a-laughing. The neighbors might use the brass plate on the door as a
mirror to shave in; the stone floor is polished till it shines; and the
woodwork of the staircase is varnished to perfection.
In the entrance-hall a number of notices, written in the peculiar
style which owners of houses affect, request the tenants to respect the
property of others, without regard to the high price they pay for their
share. "Clean your feet, if you please," they say to all who come in or
go out. "No spitting allowed on the stairs." "Dogs are not allowed in
the house."
Nevertheless, this admirably-kept house "enjoyed" but a sorry reputation
in the neighborhood. Was it worse than other houses,--No. 21, for
instance, or No. 25? Probably not; but there is a fate for houses as
well as for men.
The first story was occupied by the families of two independent
gentlemen, whose simplicity of mind was only equalled by that of their
mode of life. A collector, who occasionally acted as broker, lived in
the second story, and had his offices there. The third story was rented
to a very rich man, a baron as people said, who only appeared there at
long intervals, preferring, according to his own account, to live on
his estates near Saintonge. The whole fourth story was occupied by a
man familiarly known as Papa Ravinet, although he was barely fifty years
old. He dealt in second-hand merchandise, furniture, curiosities, and
toilet articles; and his rooms were filled to overflowing with a medley
collection of things which he was in the habit of buying at auctions.
The fifth story, finally, was cut up in numerous small rooms and
closets, which were occupied by poor families or clerks, who, almost
without exception, disappeared early in the morning, and returned only
as late as possible at night.
I.
There is not in all Paris a house better kept or more inviting-looking
than No. 23 in Grange Street. As soon as you enter, you are struck by a
minute, extreme neatness, which reminds you of Holland, and almost sets
you a-laughing. The neighbors might use the brass plate on the door as a
mirror to shave in; the stone floor is polished till it shines; and the
woodwork of the staircase is varnished to perfection.
In the entrance-hall a number of notices, written in the peculiar
style which owners of houses affect, request the tenants to respect the
property of others, without regard to the high price they pay for their
share. "Clean your feet, if you please," they say to all who come in or
go out. "No spitting allowed on the stairs." "Dogs are not allowed in
the house."
Nevertheless, this admirably-kept house "enjoyed" but a sorry reputation
in the neighborhood. Was it worse than other houses,--No. 21, for
instance, or No. 25? Probably not; but there is a fate for houses as
well as for men.
The first story was occupied by the families of two independent
gentlemen, whose simplicity of mind was only equalled by that of their
mode of life. A collector, who occasionally acted as broker, lived in
the second story, and had his offices there. The third story was rented
to a very rich man, a baron as people said, who only appeared there at
long intervals, preferring, according to his own account, to live on
his estates near Saintonge. The whole fourth story was occupied by a
man familiarly known as Papa Ravinet, although he was barely fifty years
old. He dealt in second-hand merchandise, furniture, curiosities, and
toilet articles; and his rooms were filled to overflowing with a medley
collection of things which he was in the habit of buying at auctions.
The fifth story, finally, was cut up in numerous small rooms and
closets, which were occupied by poor families or clerks, who, almost
without exception, disappeared early in the morning, and returned only
as late as possible at night.
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