s the exuberant
vitality, the dauntless spirit of the French people, as the
way they have built in preparation for the enjoyment of every
bit of the light and warmth of any chance ray of sunshine.
That year it so fell that the winter rains did not close in
until late, and Paris reveled in a long autumn of almost New
York perfection. Susan and Palmer drove to the Ritz through
Paris, the lovely, the gay.

"This is the real thing--isn't it?" said he, thrilled into
speech by that spectacle so inspiring to all who have the joy
of life in their veins--the Place de l'Opera late on a bright
afternoon.

"It's the first thing I've ever seen that was equal to what I
had dreamed about it," replied she.

They had chosen the Ritz as their campaign headquarters
because they had learned that it was the most fashionable
hotel in Paris--which meant in the world. There were hotels
more grand, the interpreter-guide at Naples had said; there
were hotels more exclusive. There were even hotels more
comfortable. "But for fashion," said he, "it is the summit.
There you see the most beautiful ladies, most beautifully
dressed. There you see the elegant world at tea and at dinner."

At first glance they were somewhat disappointed in the quiet,
unostentatious general rooms. The suite assigned them--at a
hundred and twenty francs a day--was comfortable, was the most
comfortable assemblage of rooms either had ever seen. But
there was nothing imposing. This impression did not last
long, however. They had been misled by their American passion
for looks. They soon discovered that the guide at Naples had
told the literal truth. They went down for tea in the garden,
which was filled as the day was summer warm. Neither spoke as
they sat under a striped awning umbrella, she with tea
untasted before her, he with a glass of whiskey and soda he
did not lift from the little table. Their eyes and their
thoughts were too busy for speech; one cannot talk when one is
thinking. About them were people of the world of which
neither had before had any but a distant glimpse. They heard
English, American, French, Italian. They saw men and women
with that air which no one can define yet everyone knows on
sight--the assurance without impertinence, the politeness
without formality, the simplicity that is more complex than
the most elaborate ornamentation of dress or speech or manner.
Susan and Freddie lingered until the departure of the last
couple