t never advertised itself, and didn't
belong to a limited company, stood an easy first among the hotels of
Europe--first in expensiveness, first in exclusiveness, first in that
mysterious quality known as 'style'.

Situated on the Embankment, the Grand Babylon, despite its noble
proportions, was somewhat dwarfed by several colossal neighbours. It had
but three hundred and fifty rooms, whereas there are two hotels within a
quarter of a mile with six hundred and four hundred rooms respectively.
On the other hand, the Grand Babylon was the only hotel in London with
a genuine separate entrance for Royal visitors constantly in use. The
Grand Babylon counted that day wasted on which it did not entertain, at
the lowest, a German prince or the Maharajah of some Indian State.
When Felix Babylon--after whom, and not with any reference to London's
nickname, the hotel was christened--when Felix Babylon founded the hotel
in 1869 he had set himself to cater for Royalty, and that was the secret
of his triumphant eminence.

The son of a rich Swiss hotel proprietor and financier, he had contrived
to established a connection with the officials of several European
Courts, and he had not spared money in that respect. Sundry kings and
not a few princesses called him Felix, and spoke familiarly of the hotel
as 'Felix's'; and Felix had found that this was very good for trade.
The Grand Babylon was managed accordingly. The 'note' of its policy was
discretion, always discretion, and quietude, simplicity, remoteness. The
place was like a palace incognito. There was no gold sign over the roof,
not even an explanatory word at the entrance. You walked down a small
side street off the Strand, you saw a plain brown building in front of
you, with two mahogany swing doors, and an official behind each; the
doors opened noiselessly; you entered; you were in Felix's. If you
meant to be a guest, you, or your courier, gave your card to Miss
Spencer. Upon no consideration did you ask for the tariff. It was
not good form to mention prices at the Grand Babylon; the prices were
enormous, but you never mentioned them. At the conclusion of your stay
a bill was presented, brief and void of dry details, and you paid it
without a word. You met with a stately civility, that was all. No one
had originally asked you to come; no one expressed the hope that you
would come again. The Grand Babylon was far above such manoeuvres; it
defied competition by ignoring it; and c