She had caught Claire's hand, while turning at very brief intervals toward Aline and the child. Her sentences had become spasmodic, polyglot, and parenthetical; they were half addressed to Claire and half to the recalcitrant Louise. "Now you _won't_ forget just where you're to find me, will you, my dear Mrs. Hollister?... _Sois bonne fille, Louise; nous allons à New York tout de suite_.... I want so much to see you as soon as you can manage to come. Did you ever know anything like this dreadful gale? I'm so cold that I believe it will take a good month to warm me.... _Tais-toi, chérie, tu vas à New York, où il ne fait pas froid du tout_.... You're going this afternoon, you say? I don't see how you can wait. There's cousin Jane Van Corlear just going inside--I promised to go along with her. Say good-by, Manhattan; the cold weather has made you as red as a turkey-cock, hasn't it, dear boy?... _Aline, prenez garde! Elle est bien méchante, elle veut être absolument perdue...._ Well, good-by, both of you. I do hope you won't freeze before you get off!" When the Diggs family had disappeared, Claire and her husband went and finished their packing. That afternoon they left the deserted hotel, reaching New York at about dusk. They had themselves driven to the Everett House; Hollister had occasionally lodged there in bachelor days, and proposed it as a temporary place of sojourn. It proved less temporary than they had expected. Apartments were easy and yet hard to procure. A good many sumptuous suites, in haughty and handsome buildings, were offered them at depressing prices. They found other suites, in buildings far less grand, which pleased them less and suited their purse better, but still left a certain margin as regarded proposed rental expenditure. Five or six days were consumed in these monotonous modes of search. They could obtain lodgment that was too dear, and lodgment that was too cheap; but they could not hit the golden mean of adaptability which would combine delectable quarters with moderate rates. "It is tiresome work," Claire at length said, "and it is keeping you from your business, Herbert, in a most shameful way. I really don't see what we are to do." "The apartments in West Thirty-Sixth Street, that we saw yesterday," ventured Hollister, genially, "were rather nice, though small, of course." "Quite too small," affirmed Claire. "Besides, the house itself had a dingy air. It looked so--so economical, Herbert. We don't want to look economical; we want only to _be_ it."