rank
smile:

"It is very good of you. Yes--we shall be very pleased. Saturday
evening, at seven."

CHAPTER VI

No.--Riverside Drive, an imposing apartment house of Spanish style of
architecture, situated in the most select and attractive section of
that aristocratic thoroughfare, was justly renowned in the
neighborhood for the size and magnificence of its suites and the ultra
_chic_ quality of its exclusive, wealthy patrons. No one ever
heard of rooms being vacant; people had been on the waiting list for
years and they were still waiting. Tenants never dreamed of leaving,
once they had been fortunate enough to secure a lease. It would be
surprising if they did, for in all New York there were no apartments
more desirable and comfortable.

Mr. Robert Stafford lived on the eighth floor, his rooms facing the
Hudson and commanding a superb view of the stately river below, which,
broad and turbulent, rushed by on its way to the sea, its surface
dotted with all kinds of steam and sailing craft. To the north, away
past Grant's Tomb, were the highlands of New Jersey and the
precipitous cliffs of the historic Palisades, which, as far as the eye
could reach, stretched away in a mist of purplish haze.

The decorations and appointments of the apartment would have brought
joy into the gloomy heart of the most blase connoisseur. Entering a
spacious foyer with a lofty, elaborately decorated ceiling and walls
of white marble hung all round with tapestries, trophies and oil
paintings, the visitor passed through a number of wide halls, treading
on thick Oriental rugs until he reached the salon, a magnificent room
decorated in blue and gold with heavy gilt furniture to match, which,
in turn, opened on to the dining room, both looking on the Avenue and
commanding a fine view of the river. At the far end of the salon was a
large fireplace with a splendid mantel of beautifully carved marble, a
rare piece of decorative art from the north of Italy. The dining room,
panelled with rare woods, and hung with red, with panelled ceiling,
was separated from the salon by a folding door. The walls of both
rooms were covered with paintings, water colors and engravings, while
all about was a picturesque confusion of _objets d'art_ of every
description--Japanese ivories, rare porcelains, old English china,
Indian bronzes, antique watches, snuff boxes and bonbonnieres,
curiously wrought brass and iron work, Peach Blow vases, Mexican
pottery,