Walking into the Hotel Fauchere feels more like walking into someone's home than into a hotel. Standing on the marble lobby floor, I almost felt a pang of guilt for having arrived empty-handed, without a gift for the host.

During a recent weekend stay, I found myself tiptoeing when walking up and down the stairs. I found myself keeping my voice down. I admit that I rarely make the bed when I stay in hotels, but at the Fauchere, I felt compelled to tidy up before leaving my room. I actually took the time to dress for dinner.  And in the dining room, I found myself sitting upright.