“Miss Harriet, it’s nearly noon!” The monitory voice penetrated at last; Harriet awoke, smiling.  “Father’s gone to the city, and Ward with him,” Nina said, “and I telephoned the club and asked Mr. Blondin to lunch—­Granny said I might.  And the papers—­you ought to see them!  Father said to Bottomley that he was to say that the family was not answering the telephone.  Granny was darling to me this morning.  She thinks I could keep house for Father.  I said no, thank you, not while Miss Harriet was here.  She said, Oh, no, she didn’t mean immediately, but if you married, or something.  But of course I may move into Mother’s room, after awhile, although—­ isn’t it funny?-I keep thinking that she may come back.  And Father said I was not to leave the place to-day.  I had nine letters; Amy said that she had cried all night, and Mrs. Jay wrote Father, and oh—­Father had a letter from Mother written just before the boat went; he didn’t show it to any one.  And she said they were going to Italy, and maybe Spain, he told Granny.  Isn’t it terrible?”

Thus Nina, excited and pleased by the importance of being so close to the calamity.

“I’ll be dressed directly,” Harriet said, in a matter-of-fact voice.  “Get at your Spanish, Nina, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes!”

A day or two later there was a family conference in the library, and Harriet realized more clearly than ever that it was impossible to forecast the march of events.  Richard announced that after consideration he had decided that it would be wiser for the family to weather the storm of talk that would follow Isabelle’s disappearance, in some neighbourhood less connected with her.  He had therefore leased an establishment on Long Island, where the children could have their swimming and tennis, and his mother her usual nearness to town, but where they would be comparatively inaccessible to a curious press and public, and might disappear for a grateful interval.  The life at Huntington would be less formal than at Crownlands, but the house he had taken was comfortable and roomy; there would be plenty of room for Nina’s girl friends and Ward’s guests.  Miss Field, Bottomley, and Hansen would please see to it that the move was made with all possible expedition.  He would join the family there every week-end, possibly now and then during the week, and he hoped the change would do them all good, and bridge the difficult first months of—­ their misfortune.  “I have explained to my mother and the children,” he said, quietly, to Harriet, “that Mrs. Carter has asked for a divorce, which will, of course, be immediately arranged.

“The trip,” he ended, turning to his mother, “is only about the distance this is, in the car.  I’ve not seen the place, but I’m confident that you’ll like it.”

“I shall of course remain there steadily, Richard,” said the old lady, with graciousness.  “The length of the trip makes no difference.  You naturally have not had time to consider—­how should you—­that there is a change in your circumstances, my son.  The presence of an older woman in your house is imperative.”