helpful.
Someone rapped on the door and Thad opened it. A somewhat heavyset man in his late thirties with black, slicked-back hair entered. Behind him was a much younger woman, with curly brown hair swept up onto her head. She was slim and beautiful; her dress was a floral crepe de chine adorned with a black lace collar that climbed up her neck all the way to her face. She wore rouge and red lipstick. I guessed she was about twenty-five.
The man strode past us and went directly to Mr. Boldt, who still sat at the table.
"Mr. Guggenheim!" Boldt greeted him in a heavy German accent, surprised to see him.
Guggenheim! It had to be Benjamin Guggenheim, one of the richest men in New York, if not the world. I had seen his picture in many papers. And now here he was, in the same room as me! I was glad Mimi was there, because there was no way Amelie, Emma, or Blythe would have believed it without a witness.
"What's this? I arrive to find my suite is in use," Mr. Guggenheim said. "Aren't I Jack's favorite guest?"
"We weren't expecting you," Mr. Boldt explained.
"Does that make a difference? Jack said I could always count on having this room."
"By Jack does he mean John Jacob Astor?" I whispered to Thad.
"John Jacob Astor the Fourth," Thad replied with a nod. "He owns the place."
"I know," I whispered, remembering the newspaper article I'd read.
"Why is this person so important that he got my suite?" Benjamin Guggenheim demanded.
"Mr. Tesla had some business to discuss with Mr. Astor, and I thought this suite was available. Regrettably, Colonel Astor has been delayed in Rhode Island."
Guggenheim snickered as if he knew some secret about John Jacob Astor that was too embarrassing to mention. "I'll bet he's been delayed. Say no more. Tell this Tesla that Benjamin Guggenheim has arrived and he has to clear out!"
"I'm afraid Mr. Tesla is presently feeling ill and lying down inside. He has his own apartment in the hotel but I'm reluctant to disturb him in his current state."
"Oh, I know who you mean now! Weird Tesla. That nutty inventor pal of Jack's!" Mr. Guggenheim threw an unhappy glance toward the closed bedroom door. For a moment, I thought he would storm in and pull Tesla out.
I bristled, disliking Guggenheim intensely. How dare he call Tesla names!
"May I offer you Colonel Astor's suite down the hall? He is apparently remaining in Newport this night and will not be using it," Mr. Boldt suggested in a conciliatory tone.
"I wish Jack wouldn't insist on being called Colonel Astor," Mr. Guggenheim cried. "It's so ridiculous. He donated his yacht and bought himself a brigade of volunteers just so he could have that ludicrous title! It's absurd."
"Colonel Astor served his country with distinction during the Spanish-American War," Mr. Boldt insisted loyally. "Shall I prepare his suite for you?"
"Very well, I suppose," Mr. Guggenheim agreed grudgingly. "I think Jack's suite is bigger than this one, anyway."
"Somewhat larger, yes," Mr. Boldt agreed.
When I turned to check on what Mimi was making of all this, I discovered she'd stepped out into the hall with the young woman who'd come in with Mr. Guggenheim. She was showing Mimi the lacework on the under slip of her dress. They were laughing and appeared to be getting on quite well -- amazingly well, I thought, for two people who'd only just met. When they noticed me watching, they came back into the room.
"Benjamin, mon chéri" the young woman said to Mr. Guggenheim in a charming French accent when he returned to the front door, "can we invite these lovely people to our suite to have a bite to eat? The trip here has been très dull and I would so love to be amusée."
"I'm tired and I want to unpack, Ninette," he grumbled.
Ninette pouted prettily. "You sound like an old man," she complained.
Her barb must have hit its mark because Benjamin Guggenheim relented and invited Mimi, Thad, and me to the suite of John Jacob Astor the Fourth.
I caught Mimi's eye and opened my
Someone rapped on the door and Thad opened it. A somewhat heavyset man in his late thirties with black, slicked-back hair entered. Behind him was a much younger woman, with curly brown hair swept up onto her head. She was slim and beautiful; her dress was a floral crepe de chine adorned with a black lace collar that climbed up her neck all the way to her face. She wore rouge and red lipstick. I guessed she was about twenty-five.
The man strode past us and went directly to Mr. Boldt, who still sat at the table.
"Mr. Guggenheim!" Boldt greeted him in a heavy German accent, surprised to see him.
Guggenheim! It had to be Benjamin Guggenheim, one of the richest men in New York, if not the world. I had seen his picture in many papers. And now here he was, in the same room as me! I was glad Mimi was there, because there was no way Amelie, Emma, or Blythe would have believed it without a witness.
"What's this? I arrive to find my suite is in use," Mr. Guggenheim said. "Aren't I Jack's favorite guest?"
"We weren't expecting you," Mr. Boldt explained.
"Does that make a difference? Jack said I could always count on having this room."
"By Jack does he mean John Jacob Astor?" I whispered to Thad.
"John Jacob Astor the Fourth," Thad replied with a nod. "He owns the place."
"I know," I whispered, remembering the newspaper article I'd read.
"Why is this person so important that he got my suite?" Benjamin Guggenheim demanded.
"Mr. Tesla had some business to discuss with Mr. Astor, and I thought this suite was available. Regrettably, Colonel Astor has been delayed in Rhode Island."
Guggenheim snickered as if he knew some secret about John Jacob Astor that was too embarrassing to mention. "I'll bet he's been delayed. Say no more. Tell this Tesla that Benjamin Guggenheim has arrived and he has to clear out!"
"I'm afraid Mr. Tesla is presently feeling ill and lying down inside. He has his own apartment in the hotel but I'm reluctant to disturb him in his current state."
"Oh, I know who you mean now! Weird Tesla. That nutty inventor pal of Jack's!" Mr. Guggenheim threw an unhappy glance toward the closed bedroom door. For a moment, I thought he would storm in and pull Tesla out.
I bristled, disliking Guggenheim intensely. How dare he call Tesla names!
"May I offer you Colonel Astor's suite down the hall? He is apparently remaining in Newport this night and will not be using it," Mr. Boldt suggested in a conciliatory tone.
"I wish Jack wouldn't insist on being called Colonel Astor," Mr. Guggenheim cried. "It's so ridiculous. He donated his yacht and bought himself a brigade of volunteers just so he could have that ludicrous title! It's absurd."
"Colonel Astor served his country with distinction during the Spanish-American War," Mr. Boldt insisted loyally. "Shall I prepare his suite for you?"
"Very well, I suppose," Mr. Guggenheim agreed grudgingly. "I think Jack's suite is bigger than this one, anyway."
"Somewhat larger, yes," Mr. Boldt agreed.
When I turned to check on what Mimi was making of all this, I discovered she'd stepped out into the hall with the young woman who'd come in with Mr. Guggenheim. She was showing Mimi the lacework on the under slip of her dress. They were laughing and appeared to be getting on quite well -- amazingly well, I thought, for two people who'd only just met. When they noticed me watching, they came back into the room.
"Benjamin, mon chéri" the young woman said to Mr. Guggenheim in a charming French accent when he returned to the front door, "can we invite these lovely people to our suite to have a bite to eat? The trip here has been très dull and I would so love to be amusée."
"I'm tired and I want to unpack, Ninette," he grumbled.
Ninette pouted prettily. "You sound like an old man," she complained.
Her barb must have hit its mark because Benjamin Guggenheim relented and invited Mimi, Thad, and me to the suite of John Jacob Astor the Fourth.
I caught Mimi's eye and opened my
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