So my father wanted us to live with him. But it happened that most of the family were then gathered in Constantinople. Besides our immediate family numbering four, my uncle, his wife, their daughter and a cousin were in town and lived with my father and two old servants who had been so long with us that they were now part of the family also shared the same roof. Old servants are an immovable institution in Turkey. After years of service they acquire a standing almost equal to that of a member of the family. They have their own establishment, they do not do any work except watching over the hired men, and they would feel insulted if they were paid any salary. They ask for money when they need it. They are really part of the family. One of the old servants who was then with my father had been the nurse of my mother, and had married many years ago--at which time she had been given a little house comfortably furnished. At the death of her husband she felt so lonely--they had no children--that she sold her house and came back to us. She has lived with us ever since and considers us all as her adopted children! So while the house in Nishantashe was quite large it was nevertheless full; and much to the regret of every one of us we decided that we would visit there only until we could find a place of our own. This was a difficult task. All the principal houses, all the best apartments had been requisitioned by foreign officers belonging to the Inter-Allied armies of occupation, by their retinues and by their friends. We were shown many small, dirty cubby-holes in Pera, which Greek and Armenian owners were eager to rent us at prices even higher than those prevailing in New York. In Stamboul there was no place to be had, more than two-thirds of the city having been destroyed by fire. We were just about deciding to settle in a hotel, when at last we had the good luck to fall upon a Greek couple who had suddenly decided to get a divorce. No foreign officers had yet heard of it. The house was situated in a populous Greek section but was otherwise all right and it had a bathroom which is more than can be said of the houses and apartments in Pera. The Greeks and Armenians evidently do not consider bathrooms as a necessity. In fact I believe that the bathroom in this house--although in the cellar--has greatly contributed to make of the place an American headquarters ever since we gave it up.