Doctor Peet was usually so serious that I did not know how he would respond. He answered me quite earnestly: “Well, really, that was my object in telling you all about it.” I told him I fully realized how valuable his company would be, especially in arranging my meetings with the missionaries, and I most cordially invited him to come with me. A few days later, Peet called again, and said to me: “You know, I have been thinking a great deal about our trip. I shall be able to render the assistance you expect of me in Palestine; but when you visit Syria and Galilee, you ought to have with you Dr. Franklin Hoskins of Beirut, who is a great Arabic scholar and in charge of the missions there, and knows everybody in and everything about that region.” I ended the interview with an invitation for him as well. “But,” I said, “if I invite Hoskins, shall I not slight Dr. Howard Bliss, president of the Protestant Syrian College at Beirut, who was introduced to me at a luncheon given for that purpose in New York by my warm friend, Cleveland H. Dodge, and whom I had then promised to visit at Beirut?” Then Peet said: “Why not invite Bliss, too? He would be a great acquisition to the party.” “But,” I added, “this won’t do, unless I also invite his daughter and her husband, Bayard Dodge.” So I invited these various parties, and received prompt acceptances. But this by no means completes the story. A few days later Mr. Schmavonian, who had been connected with the Embassy for seventeen years as the Turkish adviser, and who was the custodian of the tradition of the Embassy, awaited me in my office one afternoon after, as I subsequently discovered, he had carefully instructed the doorkeeper not to announce any one for half an hour. He pointed out to me with great detail that American ambassadors had come and gone out of Constantinople, “while Schmavonian went on forever.” He then said: “Now, the benefits of all this knowledge that can be secured on this trip will be lost when you leave Constantinople. Why not take me along, and perpetuate them?” I laughingly asked him how long he expected to stay in the service of the United States, and he answered that he expected to die in it. I hesitated about taking Mr. Schmavonian along, and I told him so, as I feared it would interfere with the activities of the Embassy. He quickly responded: “You know that nothing important will be done in your absence without your consent, so why not have me with you at your elbow, so that you can have the benefit of my advice in deciding the problems that may come up in performing your duties as ambassador, while you are travelling?” I cabled the State Department, and got their consent to take him with me, and he proved of invaluable assistance.