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+ <title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of The House of the Misty Star, by Frances Little (Fannie Caldwell Macaulay).
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The House of the Misty Star, by Fannie Caldwell Macaulay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The House of the Misty Star
+ A Romance of Youth and Hope and Love in Old Japan
+
+Author: Fannie Caldwell Macaulay
+
+Release Date: November 19, 2005 [EBook #17108]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE MISTY STAR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Christine D and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<p><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 280px;"><a href="images/img004.jpg">
+<img src="images/img004th.jpg" width="280" height="399" alt="She quickly walked across the burning coal" title="She quickly walked across the burning coal" /></a>
+<span class="caption">She quickly walked across the burning coal</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;" />
+
+<h1>The House</h1>
+<h1>of the Misty Star</h1>
+
+
+<h5>A ROMANCE OF YOUTH AND<br />
+HOPE AND LOVE IN OLD JAPAN</h5>
+
+
+<h5>By</h5>
+
+<h2>Frances Little</h2>
+<h6>(Fannie Caldwell Macaulay)</h6>
+<h5>Author of "The Lady of the Decoration," etc.</h5>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/img005.jpg" width="333" height="301" alt="Crest" title="Crest" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h4>New York<br />
+The Century Co.<br />
+1915</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;" />
+
+<h5>Copyright, 1915, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span></h5>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Copyright, 1914, 1915, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Curtis Publishing Company</span><br />
+&mdash;&mdash;<br />
+<i>Published, April, 1915</i></b></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;" />
+
+<p class='smallc'>TO A FAITHFUL FRIEND</p>
+<p class='center'>NUI SHIOME</p>
+<p class='smallc'>OF</p>
+<p class='center'>TOKIO.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER</td><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>I</td><td align='left'>ENTER JANE GRAY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>II</td><td align='left'>KISHIMOTO SAN CALLS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>III</td><td align='left'>ZURA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>IV</td><td align='left'>JANE GRAY BRINGS HOME A MAN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>V</td><td align='left'>A CALL AND AN INVITATION</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>VI</td><td align='left'>ZURA WINGATE'S VISIT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>VII</td><td align='left'>AN INTERRUPTED DINNER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>VIII</td><td align='left'>MR. CHALMERS SEES THE GARDEN AND HEARS THE TRUTH</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>IX</td><td align='left'>JANE HOPES; KISHIMOTO DESPAIRS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>X</td><td align='left'>ZURA GOES TO THE FESTIVAL</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XI</td><td align='left'>A BROKEN SHRINE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XII</td><td align='left'>A DREAM COMES TRUE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XIII</td><td align='left'>A THANKSGIVING DINNER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XIV</td><td align='left'>WHAT THE SETTING SUN REVEALED</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XV</td><td align='left'>PINKEY CHALMERS CALLS AGAIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XVI</td><td align='left'>ENTER KOBU, THE DETECTIVE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XVII</td><td align='left'>A VISIT TO THE KENCHO</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XVIII</td><td align='left'>A VISITOR FROM AMERICA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>XIX</td><td align='left'>"THE END OF THE PERFECT DAY"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>She quickly walked across the burning coal</td><td align='right'><i><a href="#Frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Through the sinister shadows of Flying Sparrow Street</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Zura Wingate advanced to my lowly seat on the floor, and listlessly put out one hand to greet me</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The bowing, bending, and indrawing of breath</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Page started forward. A sound stopped him</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"God in Heaven. How can I tell her!"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"Oh, God! A thief! It's over!"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Oh! boy, boy, I thought I'd lost you</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_263">263</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>The House</h1>
+<h1>of the Misty Star</h1>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 269px;">
+<img src="images/img014.jpg" width="269" height="509" alt="Crest" title="Crest" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></p>
+<h2>The House</h2>
+<h2>of the Misty Star</h2>
+
+
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h3>ENTER JANE GRAY</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It must have been the name that made me take
+that little house on the hilltop. It was mostly
+view, but the title&mdash;supplemented by the very
+low rent&mdash;suggested the first line of a beautiful
+poem.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Nobody knows who began the custom or when,
+but for unknown years a night-light had been kept
+burning in a battered old bronze lantern swung just
+over my front door. Through the early morning
+mists the low white building itself seemed made of
+dreams; but the tiny flame, slipping beyond the low
+curving eaves, shone far at sea and by its light the
+Japanese sailors, coming around the rocky Tongue
+of Dragons point in their old junks, steered for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>home and rest. To them it was a welcome beacon.
+They called the place "The House of the Misty
+Star."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In it for thirty years I have toiled and taught
+and dreamed. From it I have watched the ships
+of mighty nations pass&mdash;some on errands of peace;
+some to change the map of the world. Through its
+casements I have seen God's glory in the sunsets
+and the tenderness of His love in the dawns. The
+pink hills of the spring and the crimson of the
+autumn have come and gone, and through the
+carved portals that mark the entrance to my home
+have drifted the flotsam and jetsam of the world.
+They have come for shelter, for food, for curiosity
+and sometimes because they must, till I have earned
+my title clear as step-mother-in-law to half the waifs
+and strays of the Orient.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once it was a Chinese general, seeking safety
+from a mob. Then it was a fierce-looking Russian
+suspected as a spy and, when searched, found to
+be a frightened girl, seeking her sweetheart among
+the prisoners of war. The high, the low, the meek,
+and the impertinent, lost babies, begging pilgrims
+and tailless cats&mdash;all sooner or later have found
+their way through my gates and out again, barely
+touching the outer edges of my home life. But
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>things never really began to happen to me, I mean
+things that actually counted, until Jane Gray came.
+After that it looked as if they were never going to
+stop.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;You see I'd lived about fifty-eight years of solid
+monotony, broken only by the novelty of coming
+to Japan as a school teacher thirty years before
+and, although my soul yearned for the chance to
+indulge in the frills of romance, opportunity to do
+so was about the only thing that failed to knock at
+my door. From the time I heard the name of
+Ursula Priscilla Jenkins and knew it belonged to
+me, I can recall but one beautiful memory of my
+childhood. It is the face of my mother in its frame
+of poke bonnet and pink roses, as she leaned over to
+kiss me good-by. I never saw her again, nor my
+father. Yellow fever laid heavy tribute upon our
+southern United States. I was the only one left
+in the big house on the plantation, and my old
+black nurse was the sole survivor in the servants'
+quarters. She took me to an orphan asylum in a
+straggly little southern town where everything from
+river banks to complexions was mud color.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Bareness and spareness were the rule, and when
+the tall, bony, woman manager stood near the yellow-brown
+partition, it took keen eyes to tell just
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>where her face left off and the plaster began. She
+did not believe in education. But I was born with
+ideas of my own and a goodly share of ambition.
+I learned to read by secretly borrowing from the
+wharf master a newspaper or an occasional magazine
+which sometimes strayed off a river packet.
+Then I paid for a four years' course at a neighboring
+semi-college by working and by serving the
+other students. I did everything&mdash;from polishing
+their shoes to studying their lessons for them; it
+earned me many a penny and a varied knowledge
+of human nature. But nothing ever happened to
+me as it did to the other girls. I never had a holiday;
+I was never sick; I never went to a circus;
+and I never even had a proposal.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One night I went to church and heard a missionary
+from Japan speak. My goodness! how that
+man could say words! His appeal for workers to
+go to the Flowery Kingdom was as convincing as
+the hump on his nose, as irresistible as the fire in
+his eyes. The combination ended in my coming as
+a teacher to the eager Nipponese, who were all
+athirst for English. Japan I knew was a country
+all by itself, and not a slice off of China; that it
+raised rice, kimonos and heathen. Otherwise it
+was only a place on the map. Whatever the new
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>country might hold, at least, I thought, it would
+open a door that would lead me far away from the
+drab world in which I lived.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My appointment led me to the little city of Hijiyama,
+overlooking the magical Inland Sea. It is
+swung in the cleft of a mountain like a clustered
+jewel tucked in the folds of a giant velvet robe. It
+is a place of crumbling castles and lotus-filled moats.
+Here progress hesitated before the defiant breath of
+the ancient gods. For centuries a city of content,
+whispers of greater things finally reached the listening
+ears of eager youth, fired ambition, demanded
+things foreign, especially the English language, and
+I came in on this great wave.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I found near contentment and sober joy in my
+work and my beautiful old garden. But deep down
+in my heart I was waiting, ever waiting, for something
+to happen&mdash;something big, stirring, and tremendous,
+something romantic and poetical; but it
+never did. Year after year I wore the groove of
+my life deeper, but never slipped out of it, and one
+day was so like another it was hard to believe that
+even a night separated them.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then without the slightest warning the change
+came. One day in my mail I found a letter from
+a student which read as follows:</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>O! Most Respected Teacher.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;How it was our great pleasure to write your noble personage.
+When I triumphed to my native home after
+speaking last lesson before your honorable face, my
+knowledge was informed by rumors of gossip that in most
+hateful place in city of Hijiyama was American lady.
+She wear name of Miss Jaygray. Who have affliction of
+kind heart and very bad health. Also she have white hair
+and no medicine. Street she live in have also Japanese
+gentlemans what kill and steal and even lie. Very bad
+for lady who have nice thought for gentlemans, and speak
+many words about Christians God. Now not one word
+can she speak. Her sicker too great. Your great country
+say "Unions is strong and we stand together till
+divided by falling out." Please union with lady countryman
+and also divide. She very tired. I think little
+hungry too.</p>
+
+<p class='center'>Yours verily</p>
+
+<p class='right'><span class="smcap">Takata</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;(Some little more.) Go down House of Flying-Sparrow
+Street and discover Tube-Rose Lane. There maybe
+you see policeman. He whistle his two partner. Hand
+in hand they show you bad gentlemens street where lives
+sick ladys mansion.</p></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I hastened at once to the succor of my sick countrywoman.
+The way led through streets obscure
+and ill-kept, the inhabitants covertly seeking shelter
+as the policemen and I approached. It was a sec<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>tion
+I knew to be the rendezvous of outcasts of
+this and neighboring cities. It was a place where
+the bravest officer never went alone. For making
+a last stand for the right to their pitiful sordid lives,
+the criminals herded together in one desperate band
+when danger threatened any of the brotherhood.
+The very stillness of the streets bespoke hidden
+iniquity. Every house presented a closed front.
+Surely, I thought, ignorance of conditions could be
+the only excuse for any woman of any creed choosing
+to live in such surroundings as these.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the cleanest of the hovels I found Miss Gray,
+her middle-aged figure shrunken to the proportions
+of a child. There was no difficulty in finding the
+cause of her illness. She was half-starved. Her
+reason for being in that section was as senseless
+as it was mistaken, except to one whose heart had
+been fired by a passion for saving souls. After
+being revived by a stimulant from my emergency
+kit, she told me her name, which I already knew,
+that she was an American and her calling that
+of a missionary. I thought I knew every type
+of the profession and I was proud to call many
+of them my friends, but Miss Gray was an original
+model, peculiar in quality and indefinite in pattern.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>"Does your Mission Board give you permission
+to live in a place or fashion like this?" I asked
+sternly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Haven't any Board," she answered weakly.
+"I'm an Independent."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Independent what?" I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Independent Daughter of Hope."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her appearance was a libel on any variety of independence
+and a joke on hope, but I waited for
+the rest of the story.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She said that the Order to which she belonged
+was not large. She was one of a small band of
+women bound by a solemn oath to go where they
+could and seek to help and uplift fallen humanity
+by living the life of the native poor. She had
+chosen Japan because it was "so pretty and poetical."
+She had worked her way across the Pacific
+as stewardess on a large steamer, and had landed
+in Hijiyama a few months before with enough cash
+to keep a canary bird in delicate health for a month.
+Her enthusiasm was high, her zeal blazed. If only
+her faith were strong enough to stand the test, her
+need for food and clothing would be supplied from
+somewhere. "Now," she moaned, "something has
+happened. Maybe my want of absolute trust
+brought me to it. I'm sick and hungry and I've
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>failed. Oh! I wanted to help these sweet people;
+I wanted to save their dear souls."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was skeptical as to this special brand of philanthropy,
+but I was touched by the grief of her disappointed
+hopes. I knew the particular sting. At
+the same time my hand twitched to shake her for
+going into this thing in so impractical a way.
+Teaching and preaching in a foreign land may include
+romance, but I've yet to hear where the most
+enthusiastic or fanatical found nourishment or inspiration
+on a diet of visions pure and simple.
+While there must be something worth while in a
+woman who could starve for her belief, yet in the
+eyes of the one before me was the look of a trusting
+child who would never know the practical side
+of life any more than she would believe in its ugliness.
+It was not faith she needed. It was a guardian.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Maybe I had better die," she wailed. "Dead
+missionaries are far too few to prove the glory of
+the cause."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I suggested that live ones could glorify far more
+than dead ones, and told her that I was going to
+take her home with me and put strength into her
+body and a little judgment into her head, if I could.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She broke out again. "Oh, I cannot go! I
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>must stay here! If work is denied me, maybe it
+is my part to starve and prove my faith by selling
+my soul for the highest price."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Although I was to learn that this was a favorite
+expression of Miss Gray's, the meaning of which
+she never made quite clear to me, that day it sounded
+like the melancholy mutterings of hunger. For
+scattering vapors of pessimism, and stirring up
+symptoms of hope, I'd pin my faith to a bowl of
+thick hot soup before I would a book full of sermons.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Without further argument I called to some coolies
+to come with a "kago," a kind of lie-down-sit-up
+basket swung from a pole, and in it we laid the
+weak, protesting woman.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The men lifted it to their shoulders and the little
+procession, guarded fore and aft by a policeman,
+moved through the sinister shadows of Flying
+Sparrow street to the clearer heights of "The
+House of the Misty Star."</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"><a href="images/img025.jpg">
+<img src="images/img025th.jpg" width="399" height="261" alt="Through the sinister shadows of Flying Sparrow Street" title="Through the sinister shadows of Flying Sparrow Street" /></a>
+<span class="caption">Through the sinister shadows of Flying Sparrow Street</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Long training had strengthened, and association
+had verified my unshakable belief that the most
+essential quality of the very high calling of a missionary,
+is an unlimited supply of consecrated commonsense.
+So far, not a vestige of it had I discovered
+in the devotee I was taking to my home,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+but Jane Gray was as full of surprises as she was
+of sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She not only stayed in my house, but with her
+coming the spell of changeless days was broken.
+It was as if her thin hand held the charm by which
+my door of opportunity was flung wide, and
+through it I saw my garden of dreams bursting into
+flower.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h3>KISHIMOTO SAN CALLS</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had always been dead set against taking a
+companion permanently into my home. For
+one reason I heeded the warning of the man who
+made the Japanese language. To denote "peace"
+he drew a picture of a roof with a woman under
+it. Evidently being a gentleman of experience, he
+expressed the word "trouble" by adding another
+person of the same sex to the picture without changing
+the size of the roof.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then, too, there was my cash account to settle
+with. Ever since I'd been drawing a salary from
+the National Education Board of Missions, I felt
+like apologizing to the few feeble figures that stared
+accusingly at me from my small ledger, for the demands
+I made upon them for charity, for sickness,
+and for entertainment of all who knocked at my
+door.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My classes were always crowded, but there were
+times when the purses of my students were more
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>lean than their bodies. Frequently such an one
+looked at me and said, "Moneys have all flewed
+away from my pockets. Only have vast consuming
+fire for learning." It being against my principle
+to see anybody consumed while I had a rin,
+there was nothing to do but make up to the Board
+what I had failed to collect.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;These circumstances caused me to hesitate risking
+the peace of my household, or putting one more
+responsibility on my purse.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then sweet potatoes decided me. It was a matter
+of history that famine, neither wide-spread nor
+local, ever gained a foothold where "Satsuma
+Emo" flourished. This year they were fatter and
+cheaper than ever before. I knew dozens of ways
+to fix them, natural and disguised; so I bought an
+extra supply and made up my mind to keep Jane
+Gray.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The little missionary thrived in her new environment
+as would a drooping plant freshly potted. As
+she grew stronger, she hinted at trying once again
+to live in her old quarters, that she might fast and
+work and pray for her sinners. I promptly suppressed
+any plans in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;After all, I had been a lonelier woman than I
+realized, and Jane was like a kitten with a bell
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>around its neck&mdash;one grows used to its playing
+about the house and misses it when gone. She also
+resembled a fixed star in her belief that she had
+been divinely appointed to carry a message of hope
+to the vilest of earth, and I felt that the same power
+had charged me with the responsibility of impressing
+her with a measure of commonsense.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;So we compromised for a while at least. She
+would stay with me, and I would not interfere with
+her work in the crime section, nor give way to remarks
+on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was sure the conditions in the Quarter would
+prove impossible, but as some people cannot be convinced
+unless permitted to draw their own diagram
+of failure, it was best for her to try when she was
+able to make the effort.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The making of an extra room in a Japanese house
+is only a matter of shifting a paper screen or so
+into a ready-made groove. It took me some time
+to decide whether I should screen off Jane in the
+corner that commanded a full view of the wonderful
+sea, or at the end where by sliding open the
+paper doors she could step at once into the fairy
+land of my garden.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane decided it herself. I discovered her
+stretched in an old wheel-chair before the open
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>doors, looking into the sun-flooded greenery of the
+garden, and heard her softly repeating,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Fair as plumes of dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In a land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where only dreams come true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flutes of memory waken<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Longings forgotten."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Any one who felt that way about my garden had
+a right to live close to it.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In half an hour Jane was established. My enthusiasm
+waned a bit the next day when I found
+all the pigeons in the neighborhood fluttering about
+the open door, fearlessly perching on the invalid's
+lap and shoulders while she fed them high-priced
+rice and dainty bits of dearly-bought chicken.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I dispersed the pigeons with a flap of my apron
+and with forced mildness protested. "I'm obliged
+to ask you to be less generous. The price of rice
+is higher than those pigeons can fly and, as for
+chicken, it's about ten sen a feather. There's
+abundant food for you; but we cannot afford to
+feed all the fowls of the air."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! dear Miss Jenkins, I couldn't drive them
+away. The cunning things! Every coo they uttered
+sounded like a love word."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;I hoped it was the patient's physical weakness,
+and not a part of her nature.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could not possibly survive a steady diet of
+emotion so tender that it bubbled over at the flutter
+of a pigeon's wing.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I'd brought it on myself, however, and I was determined
+to share my home and my life with Jane
+Gray. Sentimental and visionary as she was, with
+the funny little twist in her tongue, the poor excuse
+of a body seemed the last place power of
+any kind would choose for a habitation. I was
+not disposed to attribute the supernatural to my
+companion, but from the day of her arrival unusual
+events popped up to speak for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A nearby volcano, asleep for half a century, blew
+off its cap, covering land and sea with ashes and
+fiery lava. All my pink roses bloomed weeks earlier
+than they had any business to, and for the first time
+in years my old gardener got drunk. Between
+dashes of cold water on his head he tearfully wailed
+my unexpressed sentiments, in part:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Too many damfooly things happen all same
+time. Evil spirit get loose. Sake help me fight.
+Me nice boy. Me ve'y good boy but I no like foreign
+devil what is."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then one day, about a month after my family
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>had been enlarged, I had just wheeled my newly
+acquired responsibility out in the garden to sun
+when Kishimoto San called. He often came for
+consultation. While his chief interest in life was
+to keep Hijiyama strictly Japanese and rigidly
+Buddhist, he was also superintendent of schools for
+his district and educational matters gave us a common
+interest. However, the late afternoon was
+an unusual hour for him to appear and one glance
+at his face showed trouble of a personal nature had
+drawn heavy lines in his mask of calmness. I had
+known Kishimoto San for twenty years. Part of
+him I could read like a primer; the other part was
+a sealed volume to which I doubt if even Buddha
+had the key. Sometimes when he was calling I
+wished Gabriel would appear in my doorway and
+announce the end of the world to see, if without
+omitting a syllable, Kishimoto would keep on to the
+end of the last phrase in the greeting prescribed
+for the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The ceremony off his mind, he sat silent, unresponsive
+to the openings I tried to make for a beginning.
+Not till I had exhausted small talk of
+current events and asked after his family in particular
+instead of his ancestors in general, did his
+tongue loosen.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then the floodgates of his pent-up emotion
+opened and forth poured a torrent of anger, disappointment,
+and outraged pride. I had never before
+seen a man so shaken, but then I hadn't seen
+many, much less one with the red blood of Daimyos
+in his veins. He was a man whose soul dwelt in
+the innermost place of a citadel built of ancient
+beliefs and traditions.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Out of the unchecked flood of denunciation, I
+learned that he held Christianity responsible for his
+woes. I, as a believer and an American, must hear
+what he thought; as his friend I must advise him
+if I could.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the twenty years that I had known the school
+superintendent, he had always been reserved regarding
+his personal and family life. To me his
+home was a vague, blurred background in which
+possible members of his family moved. He surprised
+me this day by referring in detail to the bitter
+grief which had come to him in years gone by
+through his only child.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had heard the story outside, but not even remotely
+had Kishimoto San ever before hinted that
+he possessed a child. I knew his need for help must
+be imperative, that the wound was torn afresh,
+else he was too good a Buddhist to make "heavy
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>the ears of a friend" with a recital of his own
+sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He said he had been most ambitious for his
+daughter. Years ago he had sent her to Yokohama
+to study English and music. While there the
+girl lived with his sister who had absorbed many
+new ideas regarding liberty for women. Once he
+was absent from Japan and without his knowledge
+the girl married an American artist, Harold Wingate
+by name, and went with him to his country
+to live.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San had not seen her since her marriage
+until lately. He had honorably prayed that
+he never would. Some weeks before she had returned
+to Hijiyama practically penniless, which was
+bad, and a widow, which made it very difficult to
+marry her off again; but worse still was the half-breed
+child she had brought with her, a daughter
+of about seventeen. This girl, whose name was
+Zura, I soon found was the sore spot in Kishimoto
+San's grievance, the center around which his
+storm of trouble brewed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was like pouring oil on flames when I asked
+particularly about the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Though he could speak English that was quite
+understandable, he broke loose in Japanese hardly
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>translatable. "She is a wild, untamed barbarian.
+She has neither manners nor modesty, and not only
+dares openly to scorn the customs of my country
+and religion, but defies my commands, my authority."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Knowing him as I did, I thought it must indeed
+be a free, wild spirit to meet the blow of Kishimoto
+San's will and not be crushed by the impact. My
+interest in the girl increased in proportion to his
+vehemence. I ventured to ask for details. They
+came in a torrent.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It is not our custom for young girls to go on
+the street unattended. I forbade her going. Deaf
+to my orders, she strays about the streets alone and
+dares to sail her own sampan. She handles it as
+deftly as a common fisherman. She goes to out-of-the-way
+places and there remains till it suits her
+impudence to return to my house. In the hours of
+the night she disturbs my meditations by sobbing
+for her home and her father. She romps on the
+highways with street children, who follow her as
+they would a performing monkey."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But surely," I mildly interposed, "it is no great
+breach of custom to play with children. Your
+granddaughter is doubtless lonely and it may give
+her pleasure."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The face of my visitor stiffened.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Pleasure!" he repeated. "Does she not know
+that a woman's only pleasure is obedience? Is
+there not enough of my blood in her to make her
+bow to the law? Twice she has told me to attend
+to my own affairs! Told me! Her ancestor!
+Her Master!" This last word he always pronounced
+with a capital M.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San was not cruel. Unlike many of
+his countrymen, who are educated by modern methods
+as regarding laws governing women, he was
+still an old-time Oriental in the raw.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was at this uncomfortable moment that the little
+maid brought in tea. I instructed her to serve
+it on the balcony which overlooked sea and mountain.
+The appealing beauty of the scene always
+soothed me as a lullaby would a restless child. I
+hoped as much for my disturbed visitor. I gave
+him his second cup of tea, and asked him whether
+the mother could not control her daughter. It set
+him going.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Her mother!" he scoffed. "Madam, if her
+mother had been blest with the backbone of a jellyfish
+she would never have married a man whose
+people were not her people, whose customs are as
+far removed from hers as the East is from the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>West. My daughter was young. Had she married
+one of her own country, all would have been
+well. Her will would have been directed by her
+mother-in-law. She was trained to obedience. See
+what the teachings of your country do to our
+women! In a letter she wrote telling me she had
+gone, she thanked me for teaching her the laws
+of submission. It helped her to bow to the commands
+of this man when he bade her marry him,
+and she loved him! Love! as if that had anything
+to do with marriage. Now comes the result of this
+accursed union&mdash;a troublesome girl who is neither
+one thing nor the other, who laughs at the customs
+of my country and upsets the peace of my house,
+who boldly declares she is an American. She need
+not herald it. In dress and manners she wears the
+marks of her training."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I offered no comment, but every moment served
+to deepen my interest in this girl who could defy
+a will which had ruled a whole island for half a
+century.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My silence seemed to irritate him. He turned
+fiercely upon me.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Tell me, what kind of girls does America produce?
+What is your boasted freedom for women
+but license? Is their place never taught them?
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>Have they no understanding of the one great law
+for women?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had been absent from my country many long
+years, and while neither the best nor the worst had
+come my way, America was my country, her people
+my people, and they stood to me for all that was
+great and honorable and righteous. The implication
+of Kishimoto's question annoyed me all the
+more, because I knew him to be a keen observer and
+not hasty in his conclusions.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Softly, Kishimoto San. You answered your
+own question a few moments ago. The customs
+of the two countries are as wide apart as the East
+is from the West. Tastes differ in manners as well
+as religion. If there are things in America that do
+not please you, so there are many laws in Japan that
+are repugnant to Americans. You are unjust to
+hold my country responsible for your woes."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But I do hold it responsible. My granddaughter
+comes of its teaching. I meditate what kind of
+religion it is that permits a girl to question her
+elder's authority and to defy the greatest of laws,
+filial piety. What manner of a country is it where
+custom grants liberty to a girl that she may roam
+the streets and sit in a public garden alone with a
+man!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;This last was indeed serious. In my day and in
+my town it could be done if the girl were so fortunate
+as to have something that stood for a male
+cousin. But neither then nor now was it permissible
+in a land of man-made laws for men. Unless
+it was between husband and wife, private conversation,
+or a promenade just for two branded the participants
+as bold, possibly evil.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I asked for further details. Kishimoto San said
+the young man was a minor officer on the steamer
+by which his granddaughter and her mother had
+crossed the Pacific. He thought he was an American.
+Whenever the ship coaled in a nearby port,
+the young chap communicated with the girl and
+together they walked and talked.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The plain facts after all sounded harmless and
+innocent. What more natural than for a lonely
+girl to seek for pastime the company of a youth of
+her own kind? But it could not be&mdash;not in Japan;
+though as innocent as two baby kittens playing on
+the green, it would bring shame upon the girl and
+the family, which no deed of heroism would ever
+erase from local history. Something must be done;
+I asked Kishimoto San how I could be of assistance.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I have been consulting with myself," he re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>plied
+in English. "Would you grant me permission
+to send her to you daily as a student? Besides
+her strange ways, she talks in strange English.
+I cannot find the same in any conversation
+book. Her whole being has need of reconstruction."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was not in the reconstructing business, but a
+young girl in the house meant youth and diversion
+and a private pupil meant extra pay. What a little
+extra money wouldn't do in my house wasn't
+worth adding up. In thought I repaired the roof
+and bought new legs for the kitchen stove.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My visitor, mistaking my silence for hesitation,
+suggested, "First come and see her. Analyze her
+conduct and grant me decision whether she is a
+natural, free-born American citizen, as she boasts,
+or if the gods have cursed her with a bold spirit.
+She is of your country, your religion, if any, and
+perhaps you can understand her. I fail to comprehend."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He folded his arms for emphasis. The gleam of
+the western sun caught the sheen of his silk kimono
+and covered him with a glow. From under bent
+brows he gazed at the scene before him.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Earth and sky and sea breathed beauty. The
+evening song of the birds was of love. The spirit
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>of the fading day whispered peace, but unheeding
+he sat in troubled silence. Then from the street
+far below came the shout of a boy at play. It was
+a voice full of the gladness of youth. In it was a
+challenge of daring and courage. Loudly he called
+to his troop of play soldiers to charge splendidly,
+to fight with the glorious <i>Yamato Damashi</i> (spirit
+of Japan).</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San heard and with a quick movement
+raised his head as though he had felt a blow.
+"Ah," he murmured to himself, "if it had only
+been a boy!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There was the secret wound that was ever sore
+and bleeding. There was no son to perpetuate the
+name. His most vital hope was dead, his greatest
+desire crushed, and by a creature out of the West,
+who not only stole his daughter but fathered this
+girl whom no true Japanese would want as a wife.
+To a man of Kishimoto San's traditions the hurt
+was deep and cruel.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I well understood his sorrow and disappointment.
+Pity put all my annoyance to flight. I promised to
+go to his house and see if I could help in any way.
+I did not tell him that I was about as familiar with
+young girls from my home land as I was with young
+eagles, for the undaunted spirit of that child had
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>aroused all my love of adventure; and I wanted to
+see her. Then, too, I was haunted by the picture
+of a lonely girl in a strange land, crying out
+in the night for her dead father.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was trembling with new emotion that evening
+when I brought my invalid in from the garden, and
+tucked her into bed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San had not only offered me a tremendous
+experience, but all unwittingly he made it
+easily possible for me to defy the tradition of his
+picture language, and risk Jane Gray as a permanent
+fireside companion.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h3>ZURA</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Just below "The House of the Misty Star," in
+an old temple, a priest played a merry tattoo
+on a mighty gong early every morning. First one
+stroke and a pause, then two strokes and a pause,
+followed by so many strokes without pause that
+the sounds merged into one deep mellow tone reaching
+from temple to distant hills. It was, so to speak,
+the rising bell for the deities in that district and
+announced to them the beginning of their day of
+business.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In years gone by the echo of the music had
+stirred me only to a drowsy thankfulness that I
+was no goddess, happy as I turned for a longer
+sleep. The morning after Kishimoto San's visit,
+long before any sound disturbed the sleeping gods,
+from my window I watched the Great Dipper drop
+behind the crookedest old pine in the garden and
+heard the story of the night-wind as it whispered
+its secret to the leaves.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Usually my patience was short with people who
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>went mooning around the house at all hours of the
+night when they should have been sleeping. Somehow
+though, things seemed changed and changing.
+Coming events were not casting shadows before
+them in my home, but thrills. Formerly I had not
+even a passing acquaintance with thrills. Now,
+half a century behind-time, they were beginning to
+burst in upon me all at once, as would a troop of
+merry friends bent on giving me a surprise party,
+and the things they seemed to promise kept me
+awake half the night. My restlessness must have
+penetrated the thin partition of my Japanese house,
+for when I went out to breakfast there sat Jane
+Gray, very small and pale, but as bright-eyed and
+perky as a sparrow. It was her first appearance
+at the morning meal.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before I could ask why she had not rested as
+usual, she put a question to me. "Well, what is
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What's what?" I returned.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why," she exclaimed, "you have been up most
+of the night. I wanted to ask if you were ill, but
+I was counting sheep jumping over the fence, and
+it made me so sleepy I mixed you up with them.
+I hope it isn't the precious cod-liver babies that are
+keeping you awake."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was at Jane's suggestion that we had eliminated
+meat from our menu and established a kind
+of liquid food station for the ill-nourished offspring
+of the quarry women near us.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I assured Miss Gray that babies had been far
+from my thoughts. Then I told her of my interview
+with Kishimoto San; of how Zura Wingate
+had come to her grandfather's house; of her rebellion
+against things that were; and that she was to
+come to me for private study. Had I not been so
+excited over the elements of romance in my story,
+I would have omitted telling Jane of the incident
+of the girl and the youth in the park, for it had a
+wonderful effect on her.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane's sentiment was like a full molasses pitcher
+that continues to drip in spite of all the lickings
+you give it. At once I saw I was in for an overflow.
+It was the only part of the story she took
+in, and as she listened, passed into some kind of a
+spell. She cuddled down into her chair and shut
+her eyes like a child in the ecstasies of a fairy story.
+She barely breathed enough to say, "The darlings!
+and in that lovely old park! I hope it was moonlight.
+Do you suppose they sat under the wistaria?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Not for a copper mine would I have hinted that
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>through the night there had come before my mind
+a picture very like that. Such a picture in the
+Orient could only be labeled tragedy; the more
+quickly it was blotted out from mind and reality
+the better for all concerned. I spoke positively to
+my companion.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Look here, Jane Gray, if it wasn't for breaking
+a commandment I would call you foolish with one
+syllable. Don't you know that in this country a
+young man and woman walking and talking together
+cannot be permitted? Neither love nor
+romance is free or permissible, but they are governed
+by laws which, if transgressed, will break
+heart and spirit."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"So I have heard," cooed Miss Gray, unimpressed
+by my statements. "Wouldn't it be sweet,
+though, for you and me to go about teaching these
+dear Japanese people that young love will have its
+freedom and make a custom of its own?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, indeed! Wouldn't it be a sweet spectacle
+to see two middle-aged women, one fat and one
+lean, stumping the country on a campaign for young
+love&mdash;subjects in which we are versed only by
+hearsay and a stray novel or so!" I said all this
+and a little more.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane went on unheeding, "That's it. We must
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>preach love and live it till we have made convicts
+of every inhabitant."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course she meant "converts," but the kinks
+in Miss Gray's tongue were as startling as the peculiar
+twists in her religion.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Upon her asking for more particulars I repeated
+what Kishimoto San had told me. The girl's father
+was an artist by profession and, as nearly as
+I could judge, a rover by habit. Of late the family
+had lived in a western city. I was not familiar
+with the name Kishimoto San gave; he called it
+"Shaal."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh," cried my companion, "I know. I lived
+there once. It's Seattle."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Occasionally there shot through Jane's mind a
+real thought, as luminous as a shaft of light through
+a jar of honey. I would have never guessed the
+name of that city.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Then what else happened?" she continued, as
+eagerly as a young girl hearing a love story.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I told her it had not happened yet, and before it
+did I was going to call at the house and see the
+girl as I had promised and settle upon the hour she
+was to come for daily lessons. Meantime Jane was
+to take her nap, her milk, and her tonic without my
+standing over her. In her devotion to her pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>fession
+she was apt to forget the small details of
+eating and resting.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My craving for things to happen was being fed
+as fast as a rapid-firing gun in full action. I found
+waiting very irksome but there was a cooking class,
+a mother's meeting, two sets of composition papers
+to be corrected and various household duties that
+stubbornly refused to adjust themselves to my limited
+time.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At last, however, I was free to go and delayed
+not a minute in starting on my visit.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto's home was lower down in the city
+than mine and very near the sea. The house was
+ancient and honorable. Its air of antiquity was
+undisturbed by the great changes which had swept
+the land in the ages it had stood. The masters had
+changed from father to son, but the house was as
+it had been in the beginning, and with it lived unbroken
+and unshifting, the traditions and beliefs of
+its founders.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was only a matter of a few minutes after passing
+the lodge gates until I was ushered into the
+general living-room and the center of the family
+life.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The master being absent, the ceremony of wel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>coming
+to his house a strange guest was performed
+by his wife.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One could see at a glance that she belonged to the
+old order of things when the seed of a woman's
+soul seldom had a chance to sprout. She performed
+her duties with the precision of a clock, with the
+soft alarm wound to strike at a certain hour, then
+to be set aside to tick unobtrusively on till needed
+again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The seat of honor in a Japanese home is a small
+alcove designated as "the Tokonoma." In this ancient
+house simple decorations of a priceless scroll
+and a flowering plum graced the recess. Before it
+on a cushion of rich brocade I was asked to be
+seated.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Etiquette demanded that I hesitate and apologize
+for my unworthiness as I bowed low and long.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Custom insisted that my hostess urge my acceptance
+as she abased herself by touching her forehead
+to her hands folded upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course it ended by my occupying the cushion,
+and I was glad for the interruption of tea and cake.</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"><a href="images/img051.jpg">
+<img src="images/img051th.jpg" width="399" height="382" alt="Zura Wingate advanced to my lowly seat on the floor, and listlessly put out one hand to greet me" title="Zura Wingate advanced to my lowly seat on the floor, and listlessly put out one hand to greet me" /></a>
+<span class="caption">Zura Wingate advanced to my lowly seat on the floor, and listlessly put out one hand to greet me</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then equal in length and formality followed the
+ceremony of being introduced to Kishimoto San's
+mother and widowed daughter, Mrs. Wingate. The
+mother, old and withered, was made strong by her
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>power as mother-in-law and her faith in her country
+and her gods. The daughter was weak and
+negative by reason of no particular faith and no
+definite gods. The system by which she had been
+trained did not include self-reliance nor foster individuality.
+Under it many of the country's daughters
+grow to beautiful womanhood because of their
+gift of living their own inner lives entirely apart,
+while submitting to the external one imposed by
+custom.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;By the same system other women are made the
+playthings of circumstance and the soul is ever like
+a frosted flower bud.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Years ago a man, attracted by the soft girlishness
+and touched by the adoring deference to his
+sex, bade this girl marry him without the authority
+of her father. Nothing had been developed in her
+to resist outside conditions. It was an unanswered
+query, whether it was because of ignorance or courage,
+she braved displeasure, and followed the
+strange man to a strange country. Sometimes the
+weakness of Japanese women is their greatest
+strength. This woman knew how to obey. In her
+way she had learned to love, but her limited capacity
+for affection was consumed by wifehood.
+Having married and borne a child to the man who
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>required nothing of her, duty in life so far as she
+saw it was canceled. Further effort on her part
+was unnecessary until the time for her to assert her
+power as mother-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Even the contemplation of that happy state failed
+to enthuse. Languid and a bit sad, her hold on
+life was gone. The blight had come. On her frail
+beauty was stamped the sign of the white plague.
+She greeted me in very broken English, then left
+the chief duty of entertaining to the mother. The
+stilted conversation was after the prescribed form
+and my eagerness to see Zura, whom custom forbade
+my asking for, was, I dare say, ill concealed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I first entered, the farther parts of the
+large room were veiled in the shadow of the late
+afternoon. But when Mrs. Kishimoto called,
+"Zura, come!" a stream of sunlight, as though
+waiting for the proper time, danced into one corner
+and rested on the figure of a young girl, sitting
+awkwardly on her feet, reading.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her response to her grandmother's command was
+none too eager; but as she came forward the brilliant
+light revealed in coloring of hair and dress as
+many shades of brown as could be found in a pile
+of autumn leaves. In the round eyes, deep set in
+a face sprinkled with freckles, in the impertinent
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>tilt of the nose, there was no trace of the Orient;
+but the high arch of the dark brows betrayed her
+Japanese origin.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The girl's costume was more remarkable than the
+girl herself; it was like a velvet pillow slip with
+neither beginning nor end. It was low in the neck
+and had no sleeves worth mentioning. How she
+got into it or out of it was a problem that distracted
+me half the night, when I was trying to plan for her
+soul's salvation. I could not hide my amazement
+at her appearance. She as closely resembled my
+idea of an American girl as a cartoon does a miniature;
+but I had seen so very few girls of my country
+since my coming to Japan. I remembered hearing
+Jane say that the styles now change there every
+two or three years. My new skirt, I've had only
+five years, has seven pleats and as many more
+gores.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura Wingate advanced to my lowly seat on the
+floor and listlessly put out one hand to greet me.
+The other she held behind her. It had been years
+since I had shaken hands with any one. I was ill
+at ease, and made more so by realizing that I did
+not know what to say to this self-contained child
+of my own beloved land. I made a brilliant start,
+however. "Howdy. Do you like Japan?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The answer came with the sudden energy of a
+popgun: "No." Then she sat down close to a
+hibachi, her back against the wall.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I went on, determined to be friendly. "I am
+sure you will find much of interest here. All the
+beauties of Japan are not on the surface. The
+loveliness of the scenery and the picturesqueness of
+the people will appeal to you."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The phrase was about as new as "Mary had a
+little lamb," but it was all I could think to say. My
+conversational powers seemed off duty.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The girl scented my confusion and a half-smile
+crept around her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Country's all right," she answered. "But the
+natives are like punk imitations of a vaudeville
+poster; they're the extension of the limit."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her words, although English, were as incomprehensible
+to me as if I had never heard the language,
+but her scorn was unmistakable. As if to
+emphasize it, the hand she had persistently held behind
+her was thrust forward toward the burning
+coals in the hibachi. Her fingers held a half burnt
+cigarette. This she lighted, and without embarrassment
+or enjoyment began to smoke.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;An American girl smoking! I was shocked, but
+I held tight.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do you smoke much?" I asked, for the want
+of something better to say.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Never smoked before. But my august, heaven-born
+grandfather, who to my mind is descended
+direct from the devil, wishes me to adopt the customs
+of his country. Thought I'd start with this."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But," I reminded her, "it is not the custom in
+this country for young girls to smoke."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, isn't it?"&mdash;indifferently&mdash;"it doesn't
+matter. Had to begin on something or&mdash;die."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The spasm of pain which swept the girl's face
+stirred within me a memory long forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once, when my own starved youth had wearied
+and clamored anew for an outlet, I had determined
+on a reckless adventure. From corn-shucks and
+dried grass I made a cigar which I tried to smoke.
+It gave me the most miserable penitent hour I have
+ever known. The picture of the child of long ago
+hiding in the corn crib until recovery was possible
+caused me now to shake with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The fire in Zura's eyes began to burn. "Think
+it's funny? I don't. Have one." She flung a
+package of cigarettes in my lap.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Ignoring the impertinence of her speech and act
+I hastened to explain the cause of my amusement.
+I told her of my desolate childhood, of the quiet
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>village in which my uneventful girlhood was passed,
+where the most exciting thing that ever happened
+was a funeral about once in four years.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I finished she showed the first signs of
+friendliness as she exclaimed, "Heavens! Didn't
+you have any 'movies,' any chums, any boys to
+treat you now and then to a sundae?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San certainly stated a fact. Her English
+was strange. I was sure the words were not
+in my dictionary. But I would not appear stupid
+before this child who had no business to know more
+than I did. So I looked a little stern and said that
+my Sundays never seemed a treat; they were no
+different from week-days. If the other things she
+talked about were in a circus, I had never been to
+one to hear them.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At this such a peal of laughter went up from the
+girl as I dare say at no time had ever played about
+the ancient beams. The maid, just entering with
+hot tea, stood as if stunned. The old grandmother
+sat like a statue of age with hand uplifted, protesting
+against any expression of youth and its joys.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mrs. Wingate pushed aside the paper doors, gently
+chiding, "Zura, yo' naughty ve'y bad."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But the reproof was as meaningless as the babbling
+of a baby. Neither disapproval nor black
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>looks availed; unchecked the merriment went on until
+exhausted by its own violence. I knew she was
+laughing at me, but what mattered? To her I was a
+comical old figure in a strange museum. To me
+she stood for all I had lost of girlhood rights and
+I wanted her for my friend. Her laughter went
+through me like a draft of wine. The echo swept
+a long silent chord, and the tune it played was the
+jig-time of youth.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When Zura caught her breath and explained the
+meaning of her words, it disclosed to me a phase
+of life of which I had never dreamed. Pictures
+that moved and talked while you looked, public
+halls for dancing, and boys meeting young girls
+alone after dark to "treat" them! The child spoke
+of it all easily and as a matter of course. I knew
+more than I wanted of the dark side of Oriental
+life, but I had been so long accustomed to idealizing
+my own country and all its ways that her talk was
+to me like an unkind story about a dear friend.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But happy to find a listener who was interested in
+things familiar to her&mdash;Zura chattered away, of
+her friends and her pleasures, and though many of
+her words were in an unknown tongue, the picture
+she unconsciously drew of herself was as clear as
+transparency. It was an unguided, undisciplined
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>life, big with possibilities for love or hate that even
+now was wavering in the balance for good or bad.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once again the afternoon sun fell upon the girl.
+It touched her face, tender of contour and coloring.
+It found her hair and made of it a crown
+of bronze and gold. For a moment it lingered,
+then climbing, lighted up a yellow parchment hanging
+on the wall just above.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Through its aged dim characters I read an edict
+issued in the days of long ago, banishing from the
+land of fair Nippon all Christians and Christianity.
+It threatened with relentless torture any attempt to
+promulgate the faith, and contained an order for all
+citizens to appear in the public place on a certain
+day for adherents of the new religion to recant, by
+stamping on the Cross.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As the girl talked on, she revealed a life strangely
+inconsistent in a land which to me stood for all
+that was highest and most beautiful. A curious
+thought came to me. I wondered if the man who
+framed that edict had a vision of what foreign
+teachings might bring in its trail? Possibly some
+presentiment haunted him of the great danger that
+would come to his people through contact with a
+country leagues removed in customs and beliefs.
+Neither crucifixion nor torture had availed to keep
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>out the new religion. With it came wisdom and
+great reforms. Misinterpretation too, had followed.
+Old laws were shattered, and this girl, Zura Wingate
+was a product of a new order of things, the
+result of broken traditions, a daughter of two countries,
+a representative of neither.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura's conversation was mainly of her amusements
+and diversions.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But how did you manage so many pleasures
+while you were attending school?" I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"School?" she echoed. "Oh! that never bothered
+me. I had a system at school; it worked fine.
+The days I felt like going, I crammed hard and
+broke the average record. I also accumulated a
+beautiful headache. This earned me a holiday and
+an excursion for my health."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was hard for me to understand a girl who deliberately
+planned to miss school, but I was taking
+a whole course in one afternoon. Carefully I approached
+the object of my visit. "Well, of course
+you desire to further pursue your studies in English,
+even though your home is to be in Japan. I
+came this afternoon to ask&mdash;do you not think it
+would be pleasant if you came to my house every
+day for a little study&mdash;just to keep in practice?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The girl's lips framed a red circle as she drew
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>out a long "Oh-h-h! I see! The mighty honorable
+Boss has been laying plans, has he? Well, I
+think it would be perfectly grand&mdash;N-I-T&mdash;which
+in plain American spells 'I will not do it.'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Imagine a young girl telling one of her elders
+right to her face, she would not do it. I never heard
+of such a thing. For a moment I was torn between
+a desire to administer a stern reproof and leave her,
+and a great yearning to stand by and with love and
+sympathy to try to soften the only fate which could
+be in store for such as she.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We took each other's measure and she, pretty and
+saucy as a gay young robin, went on fearlessly:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I'm an American to the backbone; I'm not
+going to be Japanese, or any kin to them. As long
+as I have to stay I'm going to pursue the heavenly
+scenery around here and put it on paper. Between
+pictures I'm going to have a good time&mdash;all I
+want to. Thank you for your invitation, but I
+have other engagements."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A wilful girl in a Japanese home! My disapproval
+fled. Soon enough life would administer
+reproof and stretch out a rough hand to stay her
+eagerness. I need add nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A little depressed at losing her as a pupil and
+knowing that her defiance could only bring sorrow,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>I asked her gently, "Do you love good times?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do I? Well, just wait till I get started. See
+if the slant eyes of the inhabitants will not have
+another angle before I get through. They need a
+few lessons on the rights of girls."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Neither Zura's home nor her parents seemed to
+have any part in her life. She told of a prank
+played at midnight one Hallowe'en.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But," I asked, "did your mother permit you to
+be out at such an hour?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"My mother!" she repeated with a light laugh.
+"My mother is nothing but a baby. She neither
+cared nor knew where I was or what I did."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What about your father?" I ventured. "I understand
+you and he were great friends."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If I had struck the girl, the effect could not have
+been more certain. She arose quickly, her face
+aquiver with pain; she threw her hands forward as
+if in appeal to some unseen figure; then she moaned,
+"Oh! Daddy!" and she was gone.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Like the stupid old meddler I was, I tore the
+wound afresh. I exposed the bruised place in the
+girl's life, but my blunder brought to light unsuspected
+depths.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was all so sudden that I was speechless and
+stared blankly at the mother, who looked helpless
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>and bewildered. The two grandmothers had taken
+no part nor interest in the scene. Their faces expressed
+nothing. To them the girl was as incomprehensible
+as any jungle savage. To me she was
+like some wild, free bird, caught in a net, old, but
+very strong, for its meshes were made from a relentless
+law.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I made my adieu with what grace I could and
+left.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;On my way home I met Kishimoto San. Omitting
+details, I told him Zura declined to come to
+my house for lessons.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"So! My granddaughter announced she will
+not? I shall give her a command to obey."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I suggested that the girl needed time for adjustment
+and that he needed much patience.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Patience! With a girl?" he replied. "Ah.
+madam, you utter great demands of my dignity!
+It is like requesting me to smile sweetly when grasping
+the fruit of a chestnut tree which wears a prickly
+overcoat. But I thank your great kindness for honoring
+my house and my family. <i>Sayonara</i>."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Deep thought held me fast as I passed through
+the cheerful, busy streets and up the long flight of
+steps that led from the highway to my home. I
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>was too occupied mentally to pay much attention to
+Jane's unnumbered questions regarding my visit.
+Anyhow, my association with Jane had led me to
+discover she could talk for a very long while, and
+never get anywhere, not even to an end.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;That night she talked herself to sleep about girls
+and poetry and beaux, which as far as I could see
+had nothing to do with the matter.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Had Jane been a mind reader, long ere the night
+had gone, she could have found strange things in
+my brain.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hours afterwards I sat on my balcony that overhung
+the soft lapping waters below, still deeply
+thinking. Often at the end of the day's toil I
+sought this retreat and refreshed my soul in the
+incomparable beauty of the view.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In that hour the tender spirit of night folded me
+about. Out of the mystery of the vast blue I heard
+faintly a new message, potent with promise, charged
+with possibilities. The earth was wrapped in a robe
+of gray, made of mist and illusion, and its every
+sound was hushed by the lullaby of the night-wind.
+Dim, silent mountains clustered about the silver
+waters, as great watchmen guarding a precious
+jewel.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Toward me across the moon-misted sea came a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>procession of ghostly sails. Every ship seemed to
+bear troops of white-robed maidens and, as they
+floated past, they gaily waved their hands to me,
+calling for comradeship and understanding, a wide-open
+heart, freedom to love.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h3>JANE GRAY BRINGS HOME A MAN</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;During the weeks following my visit I had
+good reason to believe that Kishimoto San's
+power to command was not in working order. Zura
+failed to put in an appearance for her lessons, nor
+did any message come from the ancient house by
+the sea to explain the delay.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could only guess how things stood between the
+grandfather and the alien child.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Every minute of my day was filled with classes,
+demands and sick babies, but between duties and
+when Jane was elsewhere I snatched time to inspect
+eagerly every visitor who clicked a sandal or shoe-heel
+on the rough stones of my crooked front path.
+I kept up the vigil for my desired pupil until I
+heard one of my adoring housemaids confide to the
+other that she had "the great grief to relate Jenkins
+Sensie was getting little illness in her head. She
+condescended to respond to the honorable knock at
+her door&mdash;and she a great teacher lady!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;After this I transferred my observations to the
+crescent-shaped window at one end of my study.
+This ornamental opening in the wall commanded
+a full view of the main highway of Hijiyama.
+Through it I could look down far below upon the
+street life which was a panorama quietly intense,
+but gay and hopeful. The moving throng resembled
+a great bouquet swayed by a friendly breeze,
+so bright in coloring with the flower-sellers, white-garbed
+jinricksha men, vegetable vendors, and troops
+of butterfly children that any tone of softer hue
+attracted immediate attention.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;This led me to a discovery one day when I caught
+sight of a dark-brown velvet dress, and I knew that
+my promised pupil was inside it. Her shining hair
+made me sure, and I guessed that the young man
+with whom she walked was the ship's officer. The
+sight troubled me; but interference except by invitation
+was not my part. I could do nothing but
+wait.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;However, so unusual a creature as Zura Wingate
+could neither escape notice nor outspoken comment
+in a conservative, etiquette-bound old town
+like Hijiyama. Through my pupils, most of them
+boys and eager to practise their English, I heard
+of many startling things she did. They talked of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>her fearlessness; with what skill she could trim a
+sail; how she had raced with the crack oarsman
+of the Naval College; and how the aforesaid cadet
+was now in disgrace because he had condescended
+to compete with a girl. Much of the talk was of
+the girl's wonderful talent in putting on paper Japanese
+women and babies in a way so true that
+Chinda, a withered old man in whom the love of
+art was the only sign of life, said, "Except for her
+foreign blood the child would be a gift of the gods."
+I had dwelt too long in the Orient, though, to hear
+with much peace of mind the girl's name so freely
+used and I discouraged the talk.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Even if I had thought it best to do so, there was
+no chance for a repetition of my visit to Kishimoto
+San's house. The demands upon my time and my
+resources were heavier than ever before. The winter
+had been bitterly cold. As the thermometer went
+down and somebody cornered the supply of sweet
+potatoes, the price of rice soared till there seemed
+nothing left to sustain the working people except
+the scent of the early plum flowers that flourished
+in the poorer districts. Sheltered by a great mountain
+from the keen winds, they thrust their pink
+blossoms through the covering of snow and cheered
+the beauty-loving people to much silent endurance.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>The plum tree was almost an object of worship in
+this part of the Empire. It stood for bravery and
+loyalty in the face of disaster, but as one tottering
+old woman put it, as she went down on her knees
+begging food for her grandbabies, "The Ume Ke
+makes me suffer great shame for my weakness. It
+gives joy to weary eyes, courage to fainting heart,
+but no food for babies." In the outlying districts
+many children on their way to school fainted for
+want of food; hospitals were full of the half-starved;
+police stations were crowded with the desperate;
+and temples were packed with petitioners
+beseeching the gods.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was near the holidays. My pupil teachers and
+helpers worked extra hours and pinched from their
+scant savings that those they could reach might not
+have a hungry Christmas. They put together the
+price of their gifts to each other and bought rice.
+In gay little groups they went from door to door
+and gathered up twenty feeble old women, brought
+them to my house and feasted them to the utmost.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hardly a day passed without some new and unusual
+demand, until learning to stand up and sit
+down at the same time was almost a necessity.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Had my own life lacked absorbing interest, Jane
+Gray's activities would have furnished an inex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>haustible
+supply. As she grew stronger and could
+come and go at her pleasure, her unexpectedness
+upset my systematic household to the point of confusion.
+She supplied untold excitement to Pine
+Tree and Maple Leaf, the two serving maids earning
+an education by service, and drove old Ishi the
+gardener to tearful protest. "Miss Jaygray dangerful
+girl. She boldly confisteal a dimension of
+flower house and request strange demons to roost
+on premises."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;This all came about because my fireside companion
+was a born collector. Not of any reasonable
+thing like stamps or butterflies, but of stray animals
+and wandering humans. Her affections embraced
+every created thing that came out of the
+ark, including all the descendants of Mr. and Mrs.
+Noah. A choice spot in my beloved garden, which
+was also Ishi's heaven, housed a family of weather-beaten
+world-weary cats, three chattering monkeys,
+that made love to Jane and hideous faces at everybody
+else, a parrakeet and a blind pup. If the collection
+fell short in quality, it abounded in variety.
+On one occasion she brought home two ragged and
+hungry American sailors, and it required military
+tactics to piece out the "left-over" lunch for them.
+Another time she shared her room with a poor crea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>ture
+who had been a pretty woman, now seeking
+shelter till her transportation could be secured.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Late one snowy night Jane came stumbling in
+weighted with an extra bundle. Tenderly unwrapping
+the covering she disclosed a half-starved baby.
+That day she had gone to a distant part of the city
+to assist in organizing a soup kitchen, and a Bible
+class. On her way home she heard a feeble cry
+coming from a ditch. She located a bundle of rags,
+and found a bit of discarded humanity.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Isn't it sweet?" murmured the little missionary
+as she laid the weakling before the fire and fed
+it barley water with an ink dropper. "I'm going
+to keep it for my very own. I've always wanted
+one," she announced joyfully.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Well, you just won't do anything of the kind,"
+was my firm conclusion. I had no wish to be unkind,
+but repression was the only course left. I
+loved children, as I loved flowers, but it was impossible
+to inflate another figure for expense.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It's all we can do to support that menagerie in
+the garden without starting an orphan asylum. Babies,
+as well as cats and dogs, cost money."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, yes, I know, Miss Jenkins," replied my
+companion eagerly, her face bright with some inner
+sunbeam of hope, "but wait till I tell you of a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>darling plan. The other day I saw the nicest sign
+over a door. It said 'Moderated and modified
+milk for babies and small animals.' It's tin, the
+milk I mean, and that is what I am going to feed
+them on. It's so filling."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Beautifully simple, and tin milk must be so
+nourishing, is it not?" I snapped, ruffled by Miss
+Gray's never-defeated hopefulness. "Of course
+the kind gentleman who keeps this magic food,
+stands at the door and hands it out by the bucketful."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;That was before I learned that sarcasm could no
+more pierce Jane's optimism, than a hair would cut
+a diamond.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No," she answered sweetly, "he sits on the
+floor, and takes cans from a box. He gets money
+for it, but I am going to make a grand bargain with
+him. I am going to trade him a package of tracts
+and that cunning parrakeet for milk."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"How do you know he wants parrots or tracts?"
+I said.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, yes, he does. I talked to him. He showed
+me a faded old tract he had been reading every day
+for twenty years. Now his eyes are failing. He
+can get his customers to read a new one to him.
+He wants the bird for a spot of color as it grows
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>darker. Please, dear Miss Jenkins, let me keep
+the baby!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course I was weak enough to give in. Jane
+made her bargain and for a month the little stray
+stayed with us. Then one glorious dawn the tiny
+creature smiled as only a baby can, and gave up
+the struggle. In a corner of the garden, where the
+pigeons are ever cooing, we made a small mound.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;To this good day Ishi declares the children's god
+Jizo comes every night to take the child away, but
+cannot because it lies in a Christian grave, and
+that is why he keeps the spot smothered in flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Not in the least discouraged by death or desertion
+of her prot&eacute;g&eacute;s, Jane Gray continued to bring things
+home, and one day she burst into the room calling,
+"Oh, Jenkins San! Come quick! See what I have
+found."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her find proved to be a youthful American about
+twenty-four, whom she introduced as Page Hanaford.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From the moment the tall young man stood before
+me, hat in hand, a wistful something in his
+gray eyes, I had to crush a sudden desire to lay my
+hand on his shoulder and call him son. It would
+have been against my principles to be so outspokenly
+sentimental, but his light hair waved back from a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>boyish face pallid with illness and the playful curve
+of his mouth touched me. If I had been Jane Gray
+I should have cried over him. From the forced
+smile to the button hanging loose on his vest there
+was a silent appeal. All the mother in me was
+aroused and mentally I had to give myself a good
+slap to meet the situation with dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I asked the young man to come into the sitting-room
+and we soon heard the story he had to tell.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He said his home had been in Texas. His father,
+an oil operator and supposed to be very rich,
+died a bankrupt. He was the only member of the
+family left, and he had recently started to the Far
+East to begin making his fortune. By chance he
+had drifted into Hijiyama. He understood there
+was a demand for teachers here. He was quite
+sure he could teach; but he would have to go slow
+at first, for he was just recovering from a slight
+illness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Have you been ill a long time?" I asked, striving
+to keep my fast rising sympathy in hand.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Y-es; no," was the uncertain reply. "You see,
+I don't quite remember. Time seems to have run
+away from me."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Were you ill before you left America, or after
+you sailed?" I inquired with increasing interest.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The boy paled, flushed, then stammered out his
+answer. "I&mdash;I&mdash;I'm sorry, but really I can't
+tell you. The beastly thing seems to have left me
+a bit hazy."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A bit hazy indeed! It was as plain as the marks
+of his severe illness that he was evading my question.
+His hands trembled so he could hardly hold
+the cup of tea I gave him, so I pursued my inquiries
+no further. As I was hostess to my guests, whoever
+they might be, I asked neither for credentials
+nor the right to judge them, for their temptations
+had not been mine.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;After a long pause he slowly tried again to tell
+his story. "I was seeking employment when Miss
+Gray found me. My! but I was glad to see some
+one who seemed like home. The way she walked
+right up to me and said, 'Why, howdy do. I'm
+glad to see you. Now come right up to the "Misty
+Star" with me,' I tell you it made my heart thump.
+Didn't know whether the Misty Star was a balloon
+or a planet; didn't care much. Miss Gray was so
+kind and I was tired. Hunting a job in an unknown
+language is rather discouraging."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Discouraged!" laughed Jane, poking up the fire
+and arranging a big chair in which she put Mr.
+Hanaford, at the same time stuffing a pillow be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>hind
+his back. "The idea of being discouraged
+when the world is full of poetry and love staring
+you right in the face! Besides, there is always
+hope blooming everywhere like a dield full of faisies."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Our visitor's face crinkled with suppressed amusement
+at the little lady's funny mixture of words
+and he asked, "Are you never discouraged?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Goodness me, no! Not now. Every time I
+see a blue thought sticking its head around the corner,
+I begin to sing the long meter doxology. My
+music sends it flying. I can't afford to be discouraged.
+You see, I'm pledged to help a lot of unfortunate
+friends. I haven't a cent of money and
+every time I let the teeniest little discouragement
+show its face, it would surely knock a plank out of
+the hospital I'm going to build for them."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Build a hospital without money?" said he.
+"If you are that kind of a magician, perhaps you
+can tell me where I can find so many students that
+riches will pour in upon me?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, indeed, I can," assented Miss Gray generously.
+"The pupils are sure, if the pay isn't.
+Miss Jenkins can find you a barrelful."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The young man turned to me. "A baker's
+dozen would do to start with. Would you be so
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>kind? I need them very much. I must have
+work."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;His manner was so earnest and appealing, his
+need so evident that I was ready to turn over to
+him every student on my list, if that were the thing
+necessary to enable him to earn a living and get
+a new grip on life. There were more than enough
+pupils to go around, and I was glad to put away
+my work and give the afternoon to planning for a
+place in which to house Mr. Hanaford and his
+going-to-be-pupils.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Our guest entered into all our suggestions eagerly.
+The environment of our simple home, the ministrations
+of motherly hands touched hidden chords.
+He did not hide his enjoyment, but talked well and
+entertainingly of everything&mdash;except himself. At
+times he was boyishly gay; then, seemingly without
+cause, the expectant look of his eyes would fade
+into one of bewildered confusion and he would sit
+in silence. I hoped it was the effect of his illness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane was happier over this last addition to her
+collection than any previous specimen.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When at last he rose reluctantly and said he must
+be going, she anxiously inquired if he would be
+sure to come back to-morrow and the day after.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why, dear lady, you are very kind! Sure
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>there will be no risk of wearing out a welcome?
+And I have no letter of introduction."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You can't even dent the welcome at Miss Jenkins's
+house. It has been forged with kindness
+and polished with love, and we wouldn't have time
+to read a letter of introduction if you had one.
+Please come right away."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Our visitor stood voicing his thanks and bidding
+us adieu when the tuneful gong at the front door
+was struck by no uncertain hand.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The setting sun wrapped "The House of the
+Misty Star" in a veil of purple, shot with pink.
+The subdued radiance crept into the room and covered
+its shabbiness with a soft glory, the paper door
+slid open and, framed in the tender twilight, stood
+Zura Wingate.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I've come&mdash;" she began, then stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The unfinished speech still parting her lips, with
+hair wind-blown and face aglow, she gazed in surprise
+at Page Hanaford, and he, bending slightly
+forward, gazed back at the girl, who radiated youth
+and all its glorious freedom in every movement.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The silence was brief, but intense. Then Jane
+Gray gave vent to a long ecstatic "Oh-h-h-h!" I
+made haste to welcome and introduce Zura.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I can't stop," she said when I offered her a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>chair and refreshment; and she added rather
+breathlessly: "I started for this house at noon;
+side-tracked and went sailing. Just come to say
+thank you very much, but I don't care for any lessons
+in English or manners, and I won't have any
+kind old grandpa interfering with my affairs. Now
+I must hustle. If I don't, there'll be an uprising
+of my ancestors. Good-by."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She went as suddenly as she had come. It was
+as though a wild sea-bird had swept through the
+room, leaving us startled, but refreshed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From the shadows near the door came Page
+Hanaford's half-humorous query, "Do these visions
+have a habit of appearing in your doorway, Miss
+Jenkins, or how much of what I saw was real?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Zura Wingate is the realest girl I know, Mr.
+Hanaford." He listened intently to the short history
+of the girl I gave him, made no comment, asked
+no questions, but said good-night very gently and
+went out into the dusk.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane stood looking into the fire. Tightly clasping
+her hands across her thin chest and closing her
+eyes, she murmured delightedly, "Oh, the sweet
+darlings!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I did not ask whether she referred to our late
+visitors or something in her menagerie.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was in a whirl of thought myself. I had lost
+a pupil; my purse was leaner than ever, my responsibilities
+heavier; yet intangible joys were storming
+my old heart, and it was athrill with visions of
+youth and hope and love, although I saw them
+through windows doubly barred and locked.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2>
+
+<h3>A CALL AND AN INVITATION</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The weeks that followed were happy ones in
+"The House of the Misty Star." Page
+Hanaford dropped in frequently after supper, and
+my liking for the boy grew stronger with each visit.
+His good breeding and gentle rearing were as innate
+as the brightness of his eyes; and no less evident
+was his sore need of companionship, though
+when he talked it was on diversified subjects, never
+personal ones. If the time between visits were
+longer than I thought it should be, I invented excuses
+and sent for him. I asked little favors of
+him which necessitated his coming to my house;
+then I asked more, which kept him.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Thus it was that many delightful hours were spent
+in the cozy, cheerful living-room of the little house
+perched high upon the hill. In one shadowy corner
+Jane Gray usually sat, busy with her endless
+knitting of bibs for babies. Close beside her the
+maids, Pine Tree and Maple Leaf, looked up from
+their seats upon the floor, intent on every move<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>ment
+of her flying fingers that they too might
+quickly learn and help to "bib" the small citizens
+of their country.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From my place on one side of the reading lamp
+I could look, unobserved, at Page Hanaford on the
+other side, as he sat in the deep chair and stretched
+his long limbs toward the glowing grate stove, while
+he read to us tales of travel and fiction. Jane said
+they were as delightful as his voice. I was often
+too busy studying the boy to give much heed to his
+reading, but when he spoke it was a different matter.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;His familiarity with the remote places of the
+world, centers of commerce, and the names of men
+high in affairs, made me wonder and wonder again
+what had led him to choose for advance in fortune
+this Buddhist stronghold of moats and medieval
+castles, so limited in possibilities, so far from contact
+with foreign things. The teaching of English,
+as I had good reason to know, yielded many a
+hearty laugh, but a scant living. There was no
+other opening here for Europeans.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Every time I saw Page, the more certain I was,
+not only of his ability, but of his past experience in
+bigger things. The inconsistencies of his story began
+to irritate me like the pricking of a pin which
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>the presence of company forbade my removing.
+However, I did not question him openly; I tried not
+to do so in my heart. I found for him more
+students as well as excuses to mend his clothes and
+have him with us. I scolded him for taking cold,
+filled him up with stews, brews, and tonics, and
+with Jane as chief enthusiast&mdash;she had fallen an
+easy victim&mdash;we managed to make something of
+a home life for him.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The boy could not hide his pleasure in our little
+parties; but it was with protest that he accepted
+so much waiting on and coddling. He was always
+deferential, but delighted in gently laughing at Jane
+and telling me stories that could not happen out of
+a book.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Sometimes his spirits ran high and found expression
+in song or a whistled tune. When there
+was a sudden knock or when he was definitely
+questioned, there was something in his attitude
+which I would have named fear, had not every line
+in his lean, muscular body contradicted the suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It had not happened very often, but when it did,
+a nameless something seemed to cover us, and in
+passing, left a shadow which turned our happy
+evenings cold and bleak.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was the custom for every member of my household
+to assemble in the living-room after supper
+for evening prayer. Jane and I, the cook, and the
+two little maids were there because we found comfort
+and joy. Old Ishi, the gardener, attended because
+he hoped to discover the witch that made the
+music inside the baby organ. At the same time he
+propitiated the foreigner's god, though he kept on
+the good side of his own deities by going immediately
+afterwards to offer apology and incense at the
+temple.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Often Page Hanaford came in at this hour and
+quietly joined us.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was an incongruous group, but touching with
+one accord the border of holier things, banished
+differences of creed and race and cemented a bond
+of friendship.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One evening after the service Jane&mdash;taking the
+maids and a heaped-up basket&mdash;went to answer
+a prayer for daily bread she had overheard coming
+from a hut that day. Page and I settled down for
+a long, pleasant evening, he with his pipe and book,
+I with a pile of English compositions to be corrected.
+"Change" was the subject of the first one I picked
+up, and I read the opening paragraph aloud: "The
+seasons change from one to the other without fuss
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>or feather and obey the laws of nature. All mens
+change from one thing to other by spontaneous
+combustion and obey the universal laws of God."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My companion was still laughing at this remarkable
+statement and I puzzling over its meaning
+when Kishimoto San was announced. I found a
+possible translation of the sentence in his appearance.
+"Spontaneous combustion" nearly fitted the state
+of mind he disclosed to me. The change in him
+was startling. I had only seen the school superintendent
+outside his home. In times of difficulty
+when his will could not prevail, which was seldom,
+he dismissed the matter at once, and found refuge
+in that fatalistic word "Shikataganai" (it can't be
+helped).</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But now his fort of stoicism was being besieged,
+and the walls breached by a girl-child in his home,
+who was proving a redoubtable foe to his will and
+his calm, for of course the trouble was Zura. I
+learned this after he had finished acknowledging
+his introduction to Page. The bowing, bending,
+and indrawing of breath, demanded by this ceremony,
+took time. But it had to be.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then I asked after the general prosperity of his
+ancestors, the health of his relatives, finally working
+my way down to Zura.</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"><a href="images/img087.jpg">
+<img src="images/img087th.jpg" width="399" height="266" alt="The bowing, bending, and indrawing of breath" title="The bowing, bending, and indrawing of breath" /></a>
+<span class="caption">The bowing, bending, and indrawing of breath</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Ordinarily Kishimoto San would have scorned to
+mention his affairs before a stranger, but his world
+of tradition was upside down. In his haste to right
+it he broke other laws of convention. Page had
+withdrawn into the shadow of the window seat
+after the introduction, but listened intently to the
+conversation and soon caught the drift of it.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From accounts the situation between Kishimoto
+San and his granddaughter was not a happy one.
+The passing weeks had not brought reconciliation
+to them nor to the conditions. It had come almost
+to open warfare. "And," declared the troubled
+man, "if she does not render obedience I will reduce
+her to bread and water, and subject her to a
+lonely place, till she comprehends who is the master
+and acknowledges filial piety."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I protested that such a measure would only urge
+to desperation a girl of Zura's temperament and
+that, to my mind, people could not be made good
+by law, but by love.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The master of many women looked at me pityingly.
+"Madam, would you condescend to inform
+my ignorance how love is joined to obedience?
+Speaks the one great book of this land written for
+the guidance of women, 'The lifelong duty of
+women is obedience. Seeing that it is a girl's des<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>tiny
+on reaching womanhood to go to a new home
+and live in submission to her mother-in-law, it is
+incumbent upon her to reverence her parents' and
+elders' instruction at the peril of her life.'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But," I remarked, "there is something like two
+centuries between your granddaughter and this unreasonable
+book. Its antiquated laws are as withered
+as the dead needles of a pine tree. Any one
+reading it would know that when old man Kaibara
+wrote it he was not feeling well or had quarreled
+with his cook."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In most things Kishimoto San was just; in many
+things he was kind. But he was as utterly devoid
+of humor as a pumpkin is of champagne. Without
+a flicker he went on. "Dead these sacred laws
+may be in practice, but the great spirit of them must
+live, else man in this land will cease to be master
+in his own house; the peace of our homes will pass.
+Also, does not your own holy book write plainly on
+this subject of obedience of women and children?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San was a good fighter for what he
+believed was right, and as a warrior for his cause
+he had armed himself in every possible way. He
+had a passable knowledge of English and an amazing
+familiarity with the Scriptures. He also possessed
+a knack of interpreting any phase of it to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>strengthen the argument from his standpoint. But
+I, too, could fight for ideals; love of freedom and
+the divine right of the individual were themes as
+dear to me as they were hateful to Kishimoto San.
+It had occurred many times before, and we always
+argued in a circular process. Neither of us had
+ever given in.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But this night Kishimoto San gave me as a last
+shot: "The confusion of your religion is, it boasts
+only one God and numberless creeds. Each creed
+claims superiority. This brings inharmony and
+causes Christians to snap at each other like a pack
+of wolves. We have many gods and only one
+creed. We have knowledge and enlightenment
+which finally lead to Nirvana."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could always let my friend have the last word
+but one. I now asked him if he could deny the
+enlightenment of which he boasted led as often to
+despair as it did to Nirvana. If his knowledge
+were so all-inclusive, why had it failed to suggest
+some path up or down which he could peacefully
+lead Zura Wingate?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before he could answer I offered him a cup of
+tea, hoping it would cool him off, and asked him
+to tell me his special grievance.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He said it was the custom in his house for each
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>member of the family to go before the house-shrine
+and, kneeling, bow the head to the floor three times.
+Zura had refused to approach the spot and, when
+he insisted, instead of bowing she had looked
+straight at the god and contorted her face till it
+looked like an Oni (a demon). It was most dangerous.
+The gods would surely avenge such disrespect.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It seemed incredible that keen intelligence and
+silly superstition could be such close neighbors in
+the same brain, for I knew Kishimoto San to be
+an honest man. He not only lived what he believed,
+he insisted on others believing all that he
+lived.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He continued his story&mdash;the girl not only refused
+to come to me for English lessons, but declined
+to go for her lessons in Japanese etiquette,
+necessary to fit her for her destiny as a wife. She
+absented herself from the house a whole day at a
+time. When she returned she said, without the
+slightest shame, that she had been racing with the
+naval cadets, or else had been for a picnic with the
+young officer from the ship. Like a chattering
+monkey she would relate what had been done or
+said.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At least, thought I, the girl makes no secret of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>her reckless doings. She is open and honest about
+it. I said as much to my visitor.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He was quietly savage. "Honest! Open you
+name it! There is but one definition for it. Immodesty!
+In a young girl that is deadlier than
+impiety. It is the wild blood of her father," he
+ended sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could have added, "Dashed with a full measure
+of grandpa's stubbornness." But I was truly sorry
+for Kishimoto San. His trouble was genuine. It
+was no small thing to be compelled to shoulder
+a problem begun in a foreign land, complicated by
+influences far removed from his understanding,
+then thrust upon him for solution. He was a faithful
+adherent of the old system where individuality
+counted for nothing and a woman for less. To his
+idea the salvation of a girl depended on her submission
+to the rules laid down by his ancestors for
+the women of his house. He was an ardent
+Buddhist and under old conditions its teachings had
+answered to his every need. But both law and
+religion failed him when it came to dealing with
+this child who had come to him from a free land
+across the sea and whose will had the same adamant
+quality as his own.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;While I was turning over in my mind how I
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>should help either the girl or the man, I ventured
+to change the subject by consulting Kishimoto San
+upon important school matters. The effort was
+useless. His mind stuck as fast to his worries as
+a wooden shoe in spring mud.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Not least among his vexations was the difficulty
+he would have in marrying Zura off. If she failed
+in filial piety and obedience to him, how could she
+ever learn that most needful lesson of abandoning
+herself to the direction of her mother-in-law?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The picture of Zura Wingate, whose early training
+had been free and unrestrained, being brought
+to order by a Japanese mother-in-law was almost
+too much for my gravity. It would be like a big
+black beetle ordering the life of a butterfly. Not
+without a struggle the conservative grandfather
+acknowledged that his system had failed. For the
+first time since I had known him Kishimoto San,
+with genuine humility, appealed for help. "Madam,
+my granddaughter is like new machineries.
+The complexities of her conduct causes my mind
+to suffer confusion of many strange thought. Condescend
+to extend to me the help of your great
+knowledge relating to girls reared with your flag
+of freedom."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had always thought my ignorance on the sub<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>ject
+as deep as a cave. I would begin at once to
+excavate my soul in search of that "great knowledge."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I proceeded a little loftily: "Oh, Kishimoto
+San, I am sure there is a way to right things. The
+fault lies in the fact that Zura and you do not understand
+each other. Suppose you permit her to
+come to me for a little visit without study. It
+would give us great pleasure and I could learn to
+know her better."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Pushing aside all hesitation and the apologies
+that etiquette required on such occasions, greatly
+relieved, he quickly accepted my invitation. "You
+do my house great honor to assume the mystery of
+Zura's conduct. I give you most honorable thanks."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When he said good-night the look on his face
+suggested that a smile might penetrate the gloom,
+if he lived long enough.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"By Jove! is that what the women of this country
+have to go up against?" Page asked when the
+door had closed behind Kishimoto San.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"A very small part of them must do so, Mr.
+Hanaford. It is not so hard for the women born
+to it, as they know their fate and can accept it
+from babyhood. The suffering falls upon the alien,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>who runs afoul of their customs, especially one who
+has known the delight of liberty."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Liberty!" repeated Page, gazing out of the window
+on the thousands of lights below, which were
+fluttering in the velvety darkness like a vast army
+of fireflies. "Without it, what is life to the smallest&mdash;moth!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2>
+
+<h3>ZURA WINGATE'S VISIT</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;These were the days I kept an eagle eye on
+Jane Gray. She grew steadily stronger and
+her activities resembled a hive of bees. Unless she
+was carefully observed and brought to order, her
+allowance of milk and part of her food went to
+some child or stray beggar, waiting outside the
+lodge gates.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She talked incessantly and confidently of the hospital
+she intended to build in the Quarters. She
+had not a sen and I had less.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With the grocery bill unpaid, her cheerful assurance
+sometimes provoked me. "Goodness, Jane,
+you haven't enough to buy even one shingle for a
+hospital! To hear you talk one would think the
+National Bank was at your command."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But, Miss Jenkins," she said, smiling, "we are
+not going to use shingles for the roof, but straw;
+and I have something stronger than a national bank.
+You see, I was just born hoping. I know some of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>the sweetest people at home. I've written nearly
+one thousand letters, telling them all about my dear
+friends in the Quarters."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;So that's where all the stamps went that she
+bought with the money I gave her for winter
+clothes!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was taking Jane to task for this when a note
+arrived from Zura. I had been almost sure that
+my invitation would meet the same fate as the English
+lessons. My fears disappeared when I opened
+the missive. It read as follows:</p>
+
+<p>Dear Miss Jenkins:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Thank you. Never did like to study in vacation, but if
+it is plain visiting I'll be delighted, for I'm starving.
+Have lived so long on rice and raw fish I feel like an Irish
+stew. You'll surely be shocked at what I can do to ham
+and eggs and hot biscuit! I'll float in about Thursday.</p>
+
+<p class='center'>Hungrily yours,</p>
+
+<p class='right'><span class="smcap">Zura Wingate</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I told my companion that Zura was coming
+to make us a little visit, she was preparing to
+start for her work. She had just tied a bright
+green veil over her hat. Failing in its mission as
+trimming, the chiffon dropped forward in reckless
+folds almost covering her face; it gave her a dissipated
+look as she hurried about, gathering up her
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>things, eager to be gone. But I was seeking information
+and detained her. "Jane," I asked,
+"what do young girls in our country like best?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Boys and tolu," was the astonishing reply.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The twinkle in her one visible eye increased to
+enough for two when I said with quite a good deal
+of dignity that, while I had some idea what boys
+were, I knew nothing of the other article she mentioned.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, don't you really know what tolu is? It's
+a kind of rubber and girls like to chew it."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"American girls chew! Why, the thing is impossible,"
+I cried, pained to have an ideal shattered.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Keep calm, Miss Jenkins, this is a different
+kind of chew from the one you are thinking about.
+It isn't pretty, but it won't hurt them, any more
+than a peck of chocolates and, tolu or no tolu, in
+all the world there isn't anything dearer than young
+American girls. They are so fluffy and bossy and
+sweet, and they do make the darlingest mamas."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane waited for some comment from me. Seeing
+I had none to make, she said, "Well, there aren't
+any boys for Zura to play with, and no tolu this
+side of San Francisco." Then, brightening with
+sudden inspiration, she exclaimed, "But I tell you
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>what: wait till I take this basket down to Omoto's
+home and I'll run right back and make some bear
+and tiger cookies and gingerbread Johnnies. Children
+adore them."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What is the matter now down at Omoto's
+house?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, nothing much. He's in jail and his wife
+simply cannot work out in the field to-day. She
+has a brand-new pair of the sweetest twins, and a
+headache besides."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Even after Jane departed I did some hard thinking
+how I was to entertain so youthful a visitor as
+Zura. Inside our simple home there was nothing
+especially beautiful, and my companion had never
+mentioned that she ever found me amusing. Outside
+fore and aft there was a view which brought
+rapture to all beholders and peace to many troubled
+souls. I was not sure how a wild young maid
+would thrive on views.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From the moment Zura entered the house and I
+caught sight of her face as she looked at my garden
+through the glassed-in end of the sitting-room, my
+fears disappeared like mist before a breeze. A bit
+of her soul was in her eyes and, when she asked
+for a nearer view, I put down my work and led
+her through the carved gates into the ancient glory
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>which was not only the garden of my house, but
+the garden of my soul. We passed a moss-grown
+shrine where a quaint old image looked out across
+the lake rimmed with flaming azaleas, and on its
+waters a family of long-legged cranes consulted with
+each other. Our way led over a bridge with a
+humped-up back and along a little path for one,
+then across a bank of ferns and into the tangle of
+bamboo all silvery with the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At the beginning of our walk my guest's conversation
+was of the many happy nothings I suppose
+most girls indulge in, but as we went farther she
+had less to say. Her eyes grew wider and darker
+as the beauty of the place pressed in upon her. We
+found a seat arched over with a blossoming vine
+and sat down for rest.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura was quiet and, finding she avoided every
+allusion to home, I drifted into telling her a bit of
+the garden's history&mdash;its unknown age, the real
+princes and princesses who in the long ago had
+trodden its crooked paths. Legend said that so
+great was their love for it their spirits refused to
+abide in Nirvana and came to dwell in the depths
+of the dim old garden. I told her the spot had
+been my play place, my haven of rest for thirty
+years, and how for want of company I had peo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>pled
+it with lords and ladies of my fancy. Armored
+knights and dark-haired dames of my imagination
+had lived and laughed and loved in the shadows of
+its soft beauty. Anxious to entertain and pleased
+to have an audience, I opened wider the doors to
+my sentimental self than I really intended. I went
+from story to story till the air was filled with the
+sweetness of romance and poetry. In the midst
+of a wondrous love legend a noise, sudden but suppressed,
+stopped me short. I looked at the girl.
+She was shaking with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I asked why, she managed to gasp, "Oh,
+but you're an old softy!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was disrespectful, but it was also true and,
+though I felt as if a hot wind had been blowing
+on my face, there was such a note of comradeship
+in her voice that it cheered me to the point of joining
+in her merriment. Our laugh seemed to sweep
+away many of the years that stood between us and
+the old thrill of anticipation passed through me.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We found many other things to talk about, for I
+searched every crook and cranny of my old brain
+for bits of any sort with which to interest her. The
+last turn in the path leading back to the house
+found us friendly and with a taste or two in common.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once, seeing something near by she wanted to
+sketch, she whispered to me as familiarly as if I
+were the same age, "For the love of Mike! hold
+my hat while I put that on paper."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had no acquaintance with "Mike" and she was
+bareheaded, but so infectious was her eagerness that
+I felt about twenty.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;What she wanted to sketch was only a small girl
+in a gay kimono and a big red umbrella, but the tiny
+mite made a vivid spot of color as she stood motionless
+to watch a great brown moth hovering over a
+bed of iris. Before I could explain that the child
+was a waif temporarily housed with me, shy and
+easily frightened, Zura whipped from somewhere
+out of the mysteries of a tight dress a pad and pencil
+and, with something like magic, the lines of the
+little maid's figure and face were transferred to the
+white sheet.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"How Daddy would have loved her," said Zura,
+softly, as she covered her work. I was silent.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Later my guest and I went into the house and I
+showed her my treasures. They were few, but
+precious in their way: Some rare old prints, a
+piece of ivory, and an old jewelry box of gold
+lacquer, all from grateful pupils. Zura's appreciation
+of the artistic side of her mother's country was
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>keen. In connection with it she spoke of her father's
+great gift and how he had begun teaching
+her to paint when he had to tie her to a chair to
+steady her and almost before her hand was big
+enough to hold a brush. She referred to their close
+companionship. Mother wanted to rest very often
+and seldom joined them. Father and daughter
+would prepare their own lunch and go for a long
+day's tramping and sketching. Once they were
+gone for a week and slept out under the trees.
+Daddy was the jolliest chum and always let her do
+as she pleased. He trusted her and never had corrected
+her. Her voice was low and sweet as she
+dwelt upon the memories of her father, and when
+I saw her round white throat contract with the
+effort for control, I found something else to talk
+about.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Altogether it was a smooth day and to me a very
+happy one. Jane had been absent since noon. Her
+occupations were unquestioned, but when she joined
+us at the evening dinner it was good to see how her
+tired face brightened at Zura's girlish way of telling
+things.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Our guest thanked Jane for the cakes. Said she
+simply adored bear and tiger cookies, and as for
+gingerbread Johnnies she couldn't live without
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>them. "It was so good of you to think of me,"
+she told Jane.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Not at all," replied Miss Gray. "I was as
+glad to make them as I am to have you with us.
+Two lone women in one house are bound to get
+stale. We need young sweet things about to keep
+us enthusiastic and poetical."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At this Zura's eyes sparkled, but the sincerity of
+Jane's welcome appealed to her better part and she
+suppressed a laugh.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My house possesses one small guest-room. Without
+mentioning it, I disposed of a few curios and
+with the proceeds I ransacked the shops for things
+suitable for girls. My morning had been spent in
+arranging my purchases. It was a very sweet moment
+to me when, after I had ushered in my guest,
+she stood for a second taking it all in; then putting
+out her hand she said, "It's like a picture and you
+are very kind."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Afterwards Jane Gray, looking like a trousered
+ghost in her outdoor sleeping garments, crept into
+my study and interrupted the work I was trying to
+make up.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, Miss Jenkins," she whispered mysteriously,
+"I've just thought it all out&mdash;a way to make
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>everybody happy, I mean. Wouldn't it be truly
+splendid if dear Page Hanaford and Zura were to
+fall in love? It's a grand idea. She has the mares
+and anners of a duchess and so has he." Excitement
+invariably twisted Jane's tongue.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"For Heaven's sake, Jane, do you mean airs
+and manners?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, that's what I said," went on Jane undisturbed.
+"And oh! can you think of anything more
+sweetly romantic?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I laid down my pen and asked Miss Gray to
+look me straight in the eyes. Then I put the question
+to her: "Will you tell me what on earth romance,
+sweet or otherwise, has to do with a young
+fellow struggling not only with poverty, but with
+something that looks like mystery, and a wild, untamed,
+wilful girl?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;To which my companion replied: "But just
+think what love would do to them both!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I guess the difference in Jane's sentiment and
+mine is the same as between a soft-shell crab and a
+hard-shell one.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2>
+
+<h3>AN INTERRUPTED DINNER</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The next two days passed happily, if a little
+giddily, and Jane and I commanded every
+resource to entertain our guest. Zura saw and responded
+like a watch-spring suddenly released. She
+found in two simple old women perfect subjects on
+which to vent her long-suppressed spirits. She entered
+into the activities of the household with such
+amazing zest, it seemed as if we were playing
+kitchen furniture. While it surprised me how one
+young girl could so disturb regular working hours
+and get things generally a-flutter, I could easily see
+that all she needed was a chance to be herself.
+That was the point that Kishimoto had to understand
+and would not.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Please let me be Santa Claus this time, and give
+out the cod liver oil and the milk and the bibs to
+the babies," Zura begged one day when these articles
+were to be distributed; "and mayn't I keep the
+kiddies for just a little while to play with?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;An hour later, attracted by much noise, I walked
+out into the garden and saw Zura with a clean, but
+much-patched baby on her back, one in each arm,
+and a half-dozen trailing behind. The game was
+"Here we go 'round the mulberry bush," sung in
+English and played in Japanese.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, Miss Jenkins," cried the merry leader,
+"come quick. We need a bush and you will make
+such a nice fat one."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before I knew what was happening I was drawn
+into the mad frolic, reckless of all the work piled
+up on my desk in the study. I thought maybe I
+was growing feeble-minded, but the way to it was
+delightful, if foolish.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Strangely enough, during this time Page Hanaford
+did not appear. We explained to Zura that
+he was present the day she made her brief call.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! do you mean the day I flew into the 'Misty
+Star' and right out again? Yes, I remember his
+outlines. Where did you find him? Looked more
+like a sure-enough man than anything I've seen in
+Japan."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane monopolized the talk at breakfast that morning,
+describing to Zura the good looks of Page
+Hanaford and the charm of his romantic story.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura seemed more amused by Jane's manner and
+the funny twist in her tongue than impressed by
+her description.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Miss Gray finally turned to me and urged once
+again, "Do let's have him to-night. I'll get the
+dinner."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura clapped her hands and said eagerly, "Oh,
+let's do! I haven't been to a party in a century.
+If Miss Gray will be the 'chefess,' I'll be assistant
+potato peeler. I can make the best salad. It's
+called 'Salade de la Marquise de Chateaubriand';
+but it won't hurt you. It is only peanuts and cabbage.
+Daddy and I used to feast on it once a
+week."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There was no resisting her enthusiasm, and I
+sent a note to Page Hanaford asking him to come
+that evening for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;After all there was nothing I could label a reason
+why he and Zura should not meet.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Domesticity was the last thing anybody would
+suspect a characteristic of either Jane or Zura. Not
+knowing what the result would be, I gave the cook
+a holiday and turned the incongruous pair loose to
+do as they pleased in kitchen and dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;All the afternoon I was busy with my writing,
+but from time to time there penetrated through the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>closed doors of my study sounds of swift-moving
+feet and gay laughter. The old house seemed infected
+with youth. Contact with it was sweet.
+Some of my dreams were coming true. I found
+myself repeating a long-forgotten poem as I took
+up another stupid report. I even hummed a tune,
+something I had not done in twenty years.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Just before the dinner hour Jane and Zura came
+into the living-room. Evidently their work in a
+common cause put them on the friendliest terms.
+They were arm in arm, and I knew by the set of
+Jane's collar and the rose in her hair that young
+and skilful hands had been at work. Zura's white
+dress was dainty enough, but it seemed to melt into
+nothing about the neck and sleeves. It must have
+been brought from America, as I had seen none
+like it. Nobody could deny, however, that with
+her face, all aglow beneath her lustrous hair, she
+was a goodly sight for young and old.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Isn't she the very sweetest thing?" asked Jane
+as they approached, adding wistfully, "But I truly
+wish her dear nose didn't tilt up!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura with stern, forbidding brows, but laughing
+eyes, rebuked the wisher. "See here, Miss Jinny
+Gray, that is the only nose I have, if it is sudden.
+I've worked hard to coax it in the straight and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>narrow path. I've even slept on my face for a
+week at a time." Then with swift, dramatic gestures
+as the gong sounded at the entrance-door, she
+whispered, "Hush! The man of mystery doth appear!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page Hanaford came in. All our tempting tonics
+and special dishes had failed to curve the angles
+in the boy's face and body. He still looked ill. The
+brooding sadness that frequently overshadowed his
+lighter moods troubled me.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When he caught sight of Zura, his alertness of
+manner was pleasing and the kind of joy-look in
+his eyes did me good. I guessed he was downright
+glad to see something youthful hovering around the
+"Misty Star." I was glad too, but the situation did
+not seem to call for hurrahs and fireworks. Two
+young American people meeting, shaking hands, and
+courteously greeting each other was an unusual
+sight to me, but after all a natural one. Page said
+he had been obliged to forego the pleasure of seeing
+us, as he had been very busy organizing his new
+classes. He was glad to come again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We went at once to dinner. I wondered from
+where the new "chefess" and her assistant "potato
+peeler" had procured the materials necessary to so
+pretentious a meal. Though surprised, I soon
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>learned that Jane Gray was mistress of the art of
+making something beautiful out of nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We sat down to the softly-lighted table. The
+china was old and somewhat chipped, but on its
+white background a design in tender blue just
+matched the fresh larkspur used for table decorations.
+With the bringing in of each dish prepared
+by the new cooks the little party grew gayer and
+friendlier. The quaint old dining-room had never
+witnessed festivities like these. In the long ago it
+served as the audience chamber of a Daimyo's
+'Besso' or play place. It was here that the feudal
+lord had held council of war and state. The walls
+had never before echoed the laughter of joyous
+youth. Now even the grotesque figures on the
+carved beams seemed to awaken from a long sleep
+and give back smile for smile.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Pine Tree and Maple Leaf, gay in holiday dress,
+usually so precise and formal, fluttered about like
+distracted butterflies as they served the dinner, often
+stopping to hide their faces in the long sleeves when
+Zura honored them with side remarks for, of course,
+she was the source of all the merriment, the life of
+the party. She also reduced Jane to a state of
+helpless laughter. I felt the years dropping away
+from me, and the face of the boy whom I had
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>learned to love was less strained and brighter than
+I had ever seen it. He said little at first, but his
+eyes smiled, and he listened eagerly to all Zura's
+chatter and seemed to be hearing once again of
+joys dreamed of and a world lost to him.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I knew myself growing happier every minute.
+The after-dinner coffee was not necessary to make,
+somewhere near my heart, little thrills jump up and
+down, like corn in a hot popper. I was getting
+what my soul craved&mdash;companionship, contact with
+life, and a glimpse into the doings of youth's magic
+years.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We soon returned to the living-room. Page prepared
+to smoke, and we settled down to a friendly,
+intimate time.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The talk turned to school. Jane had been telling
+of a Japanese woman, who, handicapped by the loss
+of an arm, and no longer being useful in field work,
+trudged every morning eight miles to school where
+she could learn sewing so as to help husband and
+babies.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Well!" remarked Zura doubtingly. "I can't
+sew with two hands, and my tongue thrown in. I
+do not see how she manipulates anything so contrary
+as a needle, single-fisted."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! my dear," said Jane, "you can believe with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>one hand just as hard as you can with two. It's
+hoping with all your might, while one is doing,
+that makes our dreams come true. I'm afraid you
+never really loved school."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, yes, I did in spots," she said. "Especially
+if there were a fight on&mdash;I mean&mdash;a contest. I
+could bear with cheerful resignation all the V.P's.,
+the B.B's., and chilly zeros they tagged on to my
+deportment, but I would have worked myself into
+a family skeleton, before I would permit another
+girl to outclass me in a test exam! I could forgive
+the intellectual her sunset hair, but her Grecian nose&mdash;never!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The methods employed by the two contestants as
+related by Zura had called forth my unqualified sympathy
+for the teacher when once again the gong on
+my front-door rang out and a voice was heard asking
+for Miss Wingate.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura jumped up from her seat and greeted the
+visitor with frank delight. "Oh!" she said, "it's
+Pinkey Chalmers! Who'd believe it! Hello,
+Pinkey! My! but it is good to see somebody from
+home."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There was ushered into the room a well nourished
+looking chap, who greeted Zura by her first
+name familiarly. I did not need to be told that
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>he was the young man with whom she had been
+seen on the highway. He was introduced to me
+as Mr. Tom Chalmers; I was told he had earned his
+nickname, "Pinkey," by contracting the pink-shirt
+habit.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The youth was carelessly courteous and very sure
+of himself. My impression was that he had seen
+too much of the world and not enough of his
+mother. He declined my invitation to dine, saying
+he had had late tea before he left the ship which
+was coaling in a nearby port.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I started early," he went on, "but maybe you
+think I didn't have a great old time finding this
+place. You said in your note, Zura, it was the
+'Misty Star' at the top of the hill. Before I
+reached here I thought it must be the last stopping-place
+in the Milky Way. Climbing up those steps
+was something awful."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr. Chalmers mopped his rosy brow, but later
+conversation proved his sensitiveness to feminine
+beauty quite overbalanced his physical exhaustion,
+as on the way many pretty girls peeped out from
+behind paper doors.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page kept in the background, plainly arranging a
+mode of escape. He soon excused himself on the
+plea of work, saying as he left, "I'll drop in some
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>time to-morrow for the book. You'll find it by
+then."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With the look of a disappointed child on her face,
+Jane called to her little attendants, went to her room
+and resumed her knitting.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The unbidden guest was gaiety itself, and there
+was no denying the genuine pleasure of the girl.
+As the night was warm and glorious, I suggested
+that Zura and her guest sit on the balcony.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I picked up a book and sat by my reading lamp,
+but my eyes saw no printed words. My mind was
+busy with other thoughts. I was a woman without
+experience and had never lived in the world of
+these two. But intuition is stronger than custom
+and longer than fashion. The standards I held for
+the boys and girls of my country were high and
+noble. Frankly I did not like the man's attention
+to Zura, the intimate companionship suggested by
+his actions, nor his unreserved manner. The girl
+had told us of their chance meeting on the steamer
+coming from Seattle. Any mention of his name
+on her part was so open, she spoke of him as just
+a good playfellow to help her to pass away the
+time, I could not believe her feelings involved.
+But, fearful tragedies can be fostered by loneliness
+and in Mr. Chalmers's easy familiarity with the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>lonely girl, there was something wanting; I could
+only name it chivalry. Yet, as their voices came
+to me, glad, happy, vibrant with the joys of youth
+and its interests, I thought perhaps I did not understand
+the ways of the young and their customs, because
+I had never known their delights. On and
+on the boy and girl talked, unheeding my presence
+and the fact that I could hear.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From out the open window I caught a glimpse
+of the radiant blue between the distant hills and
+the light of the great evening star as it flashed
+its eternal message to the sparkling waters below.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura saw it and called softly to her companion,
+"Hush, Pinkey! Look! Isn't that a bit of
+heaven?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;And he of the earth replied, "I am looking at
+you. That is all the heaven I want just now."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You silly!" was the unvexed reproof.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;After a pause they began to talk of queer and, to
+me, far-off things&mdash;something about the "average"
+of "Giants" and "Cubs," of "quarter-backs,"
+"full-backs" and a kind of "great rush,"
+though what it was after I never knew. I supposed
+he was telling her of some wild tribe festival
+when he spoke of dances bearing the names of ani<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>mals
+and fowls. It was all as incomprehensible to
+me as Hindustanee.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At last he said to her, "Well, girlie, I'm about
+due to leave now. I am sorry, but I must be moving."
+Then more softly, "Remember to-morrow
+night. You take a wrap and I'll see to the lunch.
+Boat will be ready at eight. By Jove! with a night
+like this what a lark it will be!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The meaning of this was as clear as my crystal
+paper weight, and between the door where Mr.
+Chalmers bade Zura good-night and the lodge where
+I aroused the sleeping Ishi to his duty of custodian
+my thoughts went around like a fly-wheel on full
+duty.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The reflected flame of the old bronze lantern,
+swayed by the night-wind, fell on the great gate
+and transformed the carved dragons and attendant
+demons into living, moving things.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The departing guest saw it and remarked with a
+mock fear, "That dragonette seems alive; hope he
+and his angels will not follow me. Some carving
+that!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Are you interested in curious things, Mr.
+Chalmers?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I should say. Everything from jiujitsu to eels
+and chopsticks catches me."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Have you ever seen a garden in this country
+which boasts some three or four centuries of birthdays?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No; but I should like to gaze on the spectacle."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Here was my opportunity to get in serious conference
+with the young man, and as it seemed one
+of the few sights Mr. Chalmers had missed, I was
+charmed to make my offer.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"My garden is very famous," I said, "and just
+now it is in its full beauty. I wonder if you would
+come to-morrow morning and permit me to show
+it to you?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Sure. Thanks," was the answer as he swung
+down the street and into the sleeping town below.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. CHALMERS SEES THE GARDEN AND HEARS
+THE TRUTH</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Early next day I cornered Jane privately and
+told her of the conversation I had overheard
+the night before and the visitor I was expecting,
+adding, "This is Orphan Asylum day. I can't go,
+but take Zura with you. I don't want her to see
+that Chalmers boy again. He's too friendly, too
+highly colored to suit my ideas."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If my tones were sharper than the occasion demanded,
+it was because of the combination of a
+shriveled cash account, and an undesirable male
+around. The general disturbance of mind made
+me say, not quite honestly:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"He may be all right, but so far I can see not
+one good quality in Mr. Chalmers's make-up."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! yes, there is, Miss Jenkins," said Jane,
+quick to defend. "He can whistle beautifully.
+Last night as he went down the street you should
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>have heard, 'Oh! Promise Me!' It was so pretty
+I almost cried."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Spare your tears, Jane; the prettiest whistle
+that ever grew never made a real man. Mr.
+Chalmers will have to shine in another direction
+before I am convinced. Now get Zura and clear
+out, and don't you dare to take more than one
+basket of gingerbread Johnnies to the orphans."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When Mr. Tom Chalmers walked in at ten o'clock
+he barely concealed his regret at there being only
+an elderly hostess to receive him. The garden
+where I conducted my visitor, might have added
+joy to its symbol of peace on this perfect day of
+early spring. In each flower, in every leaf a glad
+spirit seemed to dwell. The feathered tribe that
+made its home among the branches madly rejoiced
+in a melody of song and twitterings. A white
+mother pigeon sheltered her young in a gnarled old
+plum tree, full-blossomed and crimson, while in a
+lofty pine old man crow scolded all birdkind as he
+swayed on the topmost branch, a bit of ebony
+against the matchless sky of blue.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There is only one effectual way of dealing with
+things one does not want to do&mdash;make past history
+of them as fast as possible. Very soon after enter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>ing
+the garden I asked Mr. Chalmers, who was
+mildly interested in the beauties before him, to sit
+down with me. Without further dallying, I went
+straight to the point of the interview. I told him
+I had heard him make the appointment with Zura
+the night before and he seemed to have forgotten
+to mention the matter to me, though I was close
+by. For a time at least I was responsible for Zura,
+and I thought it best to call his attention to a few
+facts which could not be overlooked.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I wonder, Mr. Chalmers, if you realize that in
+this country it is impossible for a boy and a girl
+to associate together alone. It is barely permissible
+for you to see her in the company of others.
+Already your attentions have caused Zura to be
+talked about and there is very serious trouble with
+her grandfather. Further than that, the excursion
+you are planning for to-night is not only improper
+in any country, but it means actual disgrace
+here."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It does? Well, I'll be hanged! Can't take a
+girl out and give her a good time! I knew these
+Japs were fools, but their laws are plain rot."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Possibly, from your standpoint, Mr. Chalmers;
+but you see these laws and customs were in good
+working order in Japan long before Columbus had
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>a grandfather. They can't be changed on the spur
+of the moment."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"That's all right," he responded hotly. "What
+you can't change you can sometimes break; I'm
+good at that kind of game."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Something in the boy's resentful face said that
+I was an impudent old meddler, an officious interloper.
+It made my voice as sharp as pins. "Very
+well, young man," I said, "there will be just one
+time in your life's history when you have encountered
+both an old law and an old woman that you
+will neither break nor change. Your attentions to
+Zura Wingate have got to be stopped and at once."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Stopped!" he retorted. "Who's going to
+make me? I come from a free country where
+every fellow is his own boss. I'll do as I please.
+What do I care about the laws of these little brown
+monkeys! Where would they be anyhow if it
+wasn't for America? Didn't we yank 'em out of
+their hermits' nest and make them play the game
+whether they wanted to or not? They had better
+lay low! Don't they know there are ninety millions
+of us? Why, with one hand tied behind we
+could lick the Rising Sun clean off their little old
+flag!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If it ever happened, I wondered about what point
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>in the battle I could locate Mr. Pinkey Chalmers.
+The more he talked, the less I was sure of my
+pet belief in the divine right of the individual.
+Then my heart jumped; I saw Page Hanaford coming.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"The maid was unable to find the book I came
+for. She directed me here. Do I interrupt?" he
+asked on reaching us, bowing slightly and looking
+inquiringly from my frowning face to Pinkey
+Chalmers's wrathful one.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Interrupt? No," said that youth. "Welcome
+to our prayer-meeting! I've planned a picnic and
+a sail for Zura and me to-night. This lady says it
+shall not be and I'm speculating who's going to
+stop it."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page stepped quietly up to the defiant Pinkey.
+"I will, Mr. Chalmers, if necessary. I know nothing
+of your plans, but in this place Miss Jenkins's
+word is law. You and I are here to obey it as
+gentlemen."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Tommy blazed. "Gentlemen! Who are you,
+I'd like to know, pushing in and meddling with my
+affairs," he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"><a href="images/img125.jpg">
+<img src="images/img125th.jpg" width="399" height="229" alt="Page started forward. A sound stopped him" title="Page started forward. A sound stopped him" /></a>
+<span class="caption">Page started forward. A sound stopped him</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At the challenge the old look of confusion momentarily
+clouded Page's eyes. Then with an effort
+he found himself. "My ancestry would not
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>appeal to you, sir. But"&mdash;half good-humoredly&mdash;"the
+punch of my fist might."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh h&mdash;h&mdash;ho!" stuttered Pinkey, angry and
+game. "You want to fight, do you! Light in!
+I'm ready."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page started forward. A sound stopped him.
+It was voices singing an age-old nursery tune:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Skip to my loobyloo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Skip to my loobyloo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Skip to my loobyloo<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All of a Saturday morning."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was a strange and curious sight in that wonderful
+old garden. Down the sandy path under
+the overhanging blossoms came Jane and Zura,
+skipping and bowing in time to the game's demands.
+The last line brought them to us. Hand in hand
+they stopped, Zura dishevelled, Jane's hat looking
+as if it grew out of her ear, but old maid and young
+were laughing and happy as children.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"We were practising games for the 'Sylumites,'"
+explained Zura. "I'm premier danseuse to the
+Nipponese kiddies and Lady Jenny is my understudy.
+What's the argument?" she asked, observing
+first one face, then the other, keenly alive to
+some inharmony.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr. Chalmers started to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I cut him short. "Zura, take Mr. Hanaford
+with you and give him the book he wants. You'll
+find it on my desk. You go too, Jane, and help;
+Mr. Hanaford is in a hurry. I'll bring Mr. Chalmers
+later."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Lovely!" exclaimed Jane; "and everybody will
+stay to lunch. Come on, let's have a feast."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A feast! Jane knew well enough it was bean
+soup and salad day, and not even a sweet potato
+in the pantry. Miss Gray and Zura started house-ward,
+slowly followed by Page. He had looked
+very straight at Mr. Chalmers, who returned the
+gaze, adding compound interest, and a contemptuous
+shrug.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;They were barely out of hearing when he began,
+"Brave soldier of fortune, that! Where did he
+come from?" Without waiting for me to answer
+he went on: "I didn't know you were a missionary,
+else you couldn't have tied me with a rope
+and made me listen to a sermon and a peck of golden
+texts '&agrave; la Japanese.'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Unfortunately, Mr. Chalmers, I'm not a missionary.
+If I were, I would leave off teaching the
+so-called heathen at once and be head chaplain to
+some of the ninety millions you were talking about.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>Speaking of golden texts, I know my Bible too well
+to cast pearls. Now, young man, once for all let
+me say, this thing simply cannot be. Zura is a
+lonely girl in a strange land. She must live under
+her grandfather's roof. Your slightest attention
+will make mountains of difficulty for her, and she
+is not going with you to-night even if you mean
+to marry her to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Pinkey turned nearly white. "Marry her!" he
+exclaimed, "Why, I'm engaged to a girl back home."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why, I never intended to marry her," he went
+on, more concerned than at any time before. "I
+was just having a little flirtation."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A little flirtation! By the powers that be! My
+country had progressed if it had come to the place
+where a man could swear allegiance to one woman,
+then blithely sail the seas to find heaven in another
+woman's eyes!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My few days' experience with a girl had set me
+more problems than I ever found in arithmetic.
+This boy was a whole algebra, and they both belonged
+to my country where I thought rearing
+children was like growing flowers. Not only were
+things happening, I was learning new lessons faster
+than I really cared for. I asked him if Zura knew
+of his engagement.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No," he replied as he walked restlessly about,
+"I just met her coming over. She isn't in love
+with me and I don't trouble others with my private
+affairs."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Really! I am afraid your manly self-control
+will cause Zura many a heart ache. I know of
+nothing more contemptible than being engaged to
+one girl and flirting with another."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Most men do it," he answered sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I don't believe you, boy, and it will take more
+proof than you can furnish to convince me that the
+men of my country have so low a standard of
+honor." I put a heavy accent on "men."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My guest flushed. "Well, I like that! What
+do you call me?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"A thoughtless boy," I said. "But if you want
+to be a man, here's your chance. You go right
+back to your ship; write to Zura; tell her of your
+engagement and why you cannot see her any more;
+then stay away."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I knew as little about men as I did about fashion,
+but I plunged on. "What do you think the girl
+back home would think? Suppose somebody treated
+her as you have treated Zura? Shame on you,
+boy! Be a man and help an old woman as well
+as a young one."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The desire to have his own way died hard, but
+something conquered. "I'll do it! Just watch
+me," he said at last, a certain bravado accompanying
+his words.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could see that he was much disturbed by our
+interview. He rose and moved towards the gate.
+His effort to live up to his newly-awakened manhood
+was boyish, but sincere.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He whirled about suddenly and said, "Miss
+Jenkins, I apologize to you and Zura. I&mdash;I'm
+awfully sorry. Zura is such a jolly chum, and she
+was very lonely; I wasn't any too gay myself at
+leaving home. But, honestly, I didn't mean to
+make it hard for her. I&mdash;I didn't think. Please
+tell her."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Impulsively he took my hand and lightly kissed
+it. But for his earnestness I would have thought
+it impudent. He was soon gone.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Where's Pink Tommy?" cried Zura, as I entered
+the living-room.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Where's Mr. Hanaford?" I questioned back.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why, he took his book and left. Didn't you
+say he was in a hurry?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, I did; so was Mr. Chalmers. He left
+good-by!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Good-by?" In Zura's question there was much
+annoyance and some anger.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane chimed in. "Both the boys gone? What
+a pity! I've just made a relly joll."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Whether intentional or not, Jane's twisted words
+sent a little breeze of laughter before the coming
+storm. For the rest of the afternoon Zura had
+little to say. Book in hand she sat in the windowseat
+overlooking the water, watching the snow-white
+sails skim the opal sea.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I made no further explanation of Mr. Chalmers
+or his call, thinking it best to await the arrival of
+his note.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It came just before night. The reading of it
+left Zura white. She looked at me stonily, "I
+suppose," she began, stiff with anger, "that you
+did this."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I did," I answered, looking into her blazing
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"And I suppose too," she continued with withering
+scorn, "that was why the gay cavalier kissed
+your hand. I saw him through the window. So
+touching! That's what you were plotting when I
+found you in the garden. Page Hanaford was in it
+too; I saw it in his face. I hate him! I hate everything!
+Oh!" she cried, with a sudden outburst
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>of passion, "the lot of you are a pack of withered
+mummies. Not one of you know what it means
+to be homesick; how I'm aching for a good time!
+Yes, I was going with Pinkey to have a picnic on
+the island. Yes, I was going to slip off without
+telling you. How could you understand? What
+was the harm in my having a little pleasure? Do
+you think I intend to bend to the rules of this law-cursed
+country? No, I will not! I'll go where I
+please. I'll have my own friends!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As gently as I could I forced her to go to her
+room and listen to what I had to say. I related
+what had passed between Mr. Chalmers and me,
+of the fatal thing she was contemplating and how
+her grandfather had appealed to me for help.
+Never had I dreamed of such passion, such grief
+in a young girl. She was like some wild thing,
+trying to beat its way to freedom through prison
+bars.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;No word of mine, however tender, seemed to
+touch her. I began to feel useless, miserable, and
+a joy killer in general. I almost wished for the
+dull days of old; at least I knew how to deal with
+them. I could give points to the Minister of Education,
+talk volubly at Mothers' Meetings and translate
+Confucius from the original, but I was help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>less
+before this girl in her conflict with conditions
+to which she could never yield and which she fought
+with all the fierceness of undisciplined strength. I
+could think of no word to comfort her. I sought
+to divert her. "Zura, listen! Do you remember
+the hat I wore the first day I came to see you? You
+do remember, for I saw you smiling at it. Well,
+I've worn it for eight years. Don't cry, Dearie;
+please don't; and I'll let you send to Yokohama and
+select me another one."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Sending to Yokohama for anything had always
+been an event to me. It was the only excitement
+I could think of. But Zura flung herself around
+at me. "Hang your old hat! What is a hat to
+a man, and he the only friend I have out here. I
+don't care if there was another girl! She can have
+him. He was somebody to play with. It was something
+to do, a touch of home. Oh! it's cruel!
+cruel!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Though another ideal was gone to smash, I was
+almost ready to cry myself with relief that it was
+only a playmate Zura wanted in Pinkey and not
+a sweetheart. Even at that I was at my wit's ends
+again to know what to say next when the door
+opened. Jane had heard the commotion, and there
+she stood in her sleeping garments and cap, a ki<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>mono
+floating behind her. In one hand was her
+candle, in the other the only ornament she possessed&mdash;a
+stuffed parrot!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She came in and, as if talking to soothe a three-year-old
+child, she coaxed, "Zury, Zury, don't cry!
+Look what Jane has to show you. This is Willie.
+For a long time he was my only friend; then he
+died. I missed him terribly at first; but don't you
+cry about Mr. Pinkey. There are plenty more men
+in this world, just as there are plenty more parrots
+and as easy to get."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, I wish everybody had died!" the girl
+sobbed on, heedless of Jane's attempt at comfort.
+Suddenly, turning away from us, she stretched her
+arms to the starlit space beyond the windows and
+cried, "I want my home! I want my friends! I
+want life!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hours later the great golden moon rose from
+out the velvety shadows of the mountains. It
+looked in the window, found a sleeping girl, and
+kissed the heavy lashes still wet with passionate
+tears. Veering still farther around to the balcony,
+it rested on two silent old women.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From the city there floated up to us the tinkling
+of the samisens in the tea-houses; the high, sweet
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>voice of a dancing girl as she sang the story of an
+old, old love; the sad notes of the blind masseur as
+he sought for trade by the pathos of his bamboo
+flute; the night-taps from the far-away barracks.
+Off to the west we could see the fast-disappearing
+lights of a Pacific steamer.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Neither sounds nor sights seemed to touch Miss
+Gray nor ruffle her serenity. For a long time she
+had been looking steadily into space, as if held by
+a mental vision of some spiritual glory.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Jane," I asked at last, "what shall we do?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Maybe it was the moon, but something had
+smoothed out every wrinkle in her face. She
+looked young and wise, as she leaned over and put
+her hand on mine. Here was a Jane I had never
+known before. In a voice low and sweet, she repeated
+the ancient hymn:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"God holds the key of all unknown<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I am glad.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If other hands should hold the key,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if He trusted it to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I might be sad."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From that night my feeling of superiority to Jane
+diminished. Some of her strong sweetness, penetrating
+what seemed the crusty exterior of my heart,
+entered in to abide with me always.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2>
+
+<h3>JANE HOPES; KISHIMOTO DESPAIRS</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When Zura appeared the following morning
+no reference was made to the events of the
+night before. She was pale and coldly courteous.
+In her sharp brightness there was no hint of an
+olive branch being hid about her to be offered to me
+or presented to her grandfather when she returned
+to his house that day, as previously arranged.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once only did the girl's manner soften, and then
+neither to Jane nor to me. Outside, from every
+glint of the sun on the new green of the pines to
+the joyous call of the white sea birds, was the glad
+message of spring, and spring in this lovely Island
+is no mere promise of things to come, but an everlasting
+fulfilment of the glorious promises made in
+the hour the great Artist dreamed it.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura looked through the window at the sea, gaily
+breaking its silvered crests against the gray old
+rocks and, just above, the great patches of rose-pink
+cherries streaking the blue haze of the moun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>tains.
+As the girl took in the tender beauty of the
+scene some memory seemed to touch her. Her
+eyes filled, her lips trembled; but she quickly recovered
+herself and soon after made her adieus.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I walked with her to the gate and watched her
+go down the long flight of steps. Everything about
+her, from the poise of her head to the swing of her
+body, courted conflict and prophesied disaster. I
+felt as if I had snatched a bag of candy from a
+hungry child.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A week later Kishimoto San came to make the
+call customary on occasions when any kindness had
+been done to him or his family. His gratitude for
+my efforts to make some headway with Zura was
+very sincere. He supplemented his thanks by a
+large box of cake. The gift was decorated with
+a red string and a good-luck emblem and wrapped
+in a bright yellow cloth. From the atmosphere,
+all concerned needed not only good luck, but
+something the color of sunshine; one look into
+Kishimoto San's face assured me it was neither
+springtime nor rosetime in the path he was treading.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My visitor was a busy man of many affairs, and
+I a woman much occupied; but custom said that a
+ceremonial visit must be just so long, and Kishi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>moto
+would rather break his neck once a week than
+a rule of etiquette once a life-time.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;So we fell to talking of a recent trip he had made
+to Yokohama. He said a great foreign fleet was
+visiting the port. The festivities and the gaieties
+were unending. He had been only a looker-on, but
+a deeply-interested observer.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He spoke of how his country had strained its
+every resource to give welcome to this fleet, making
+a neighborly call, though armed to the ship's last
+rail. He continued:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"The whole scene give me reminder of one very
+small boy who had grand record of good fight, also
+he has the great exhaustion of strength from last
+battle with tall giant. Small boy has poverty too,
+but he draw forth his many ancient toy for guest
+to play. Makes big debt of money to give him
+feast. He very much desire to keep face of big
+boy all covered with smiles."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then from the way my visitor half shut his eyes
+and looked at me, I knew something more was coming.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Americans are a great people, but disagree with
+their wonderfulness."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You mean they are inconsistent?" I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San, being too much in earnest to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>search for the proper English, dropped into Japanese&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, the old proverb fits them, 'A physician
+breaking the rules of health.'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why do you say that of my people?" I asked
+in a moment on the defensive.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Because you literally strain your bodies to hold
+very high a moral standard for other nations, that
+you, yourselves fail to follow."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He went on slowly:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I was wondering if it is the custom in your
+country for ladies to smoke and drink liquor in
+public places?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ladies!" I repeated amazed. "American
+women smoke and drink in public or other places!
+Certainly not," I declared emphatically. "Why do
+you hint at such a thing?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Thirty years' absence from my country had
+glorified my ideal of its womanhood.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Only this," said Kishimoto San, "several times
+while in Yokohama I had occasion to visit the
+Ocean Hotel. On the broad veranda facing the
+sea were seated numbers of great men and ladies
+together, many of them were smoking and I could
+not count the number of cocktails they consumed."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"They were not American women," was my vigorous
+protest.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, madam, they were. First they were
+beautiful and sparkle with eyes and tongue. All
+men bow down to them same as we bow to our
+Empress. Then afterwards I examine register and
+clerk of hotel confirm my thought."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Possibly what you say is true, Kishimoto San,
+but hasn't it a flavor of littleness to label as a national
+habit the acts of a few exhilarated travelers?
+What have you to say of the vast army of American
+women who could not be forced into doing the
+things you mention?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Nothing. Except I was just wondering how
+America could spare so many missionaries. You
+know we do not beg for their company."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It is not well for you to forget what your country
+of all others owes to the missionaries," I reminded
+him. "Though your beliefs are as far
+apart as the Poles, your sense of justice can but
+acknowledge that the unselfish service of the missionaries
+has led your people to heights they never
+could have reached without them."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"True," he responded, "it was not of their work
+in this country I was speaking, but the need of
+more work in their own. You have very good
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>story in your big book about the 'beam and mote.'
+Do not the morals of your own country need uplifting
+before you insist on sending emissaries to
+turn my people from the teachings of many centuries?
+Has your religion and system of education
+proved so infallible for yourselves that you
+must force it upon others? Ah, madam, America
+has led us far and high, but the West is for the
+West and the East is for the East. So far, on the
+road to progress they can march side by side. Further
+than that, the paths divide and are separated
+by insurmountable differences, because your country
+is ruled by the teachings of freedom which you
+cannot practise. We are governed by the will of
+our divine Emperor, and the spirit of our ancestors.
+And I pray the great Amida before my country is
+stripped of her love and reverence for these, my
+poor spirit will be annihilated. For if they are
+taken away, what can we put in their places save the
+liberty of the Occident, which means license in the
+Orient."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I heard him in silence, for while there was much
+truth in what he said, many times we had argued
+ourselves into a fever over these questions and
+never got anywhere. We could no more agree than
+we could worship the same God.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;For my part, whatever might be the erratic actions
+of a few of its freakish individuals, my faith
+in my country and its people is my faith in my God.
+I was old fashioned enough to believe every man
+his brother's keeper. There was nothing more for
+me to say.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For him, intense loyal patriot that he was, his
+devotion to crumbling old standards was making
+his fight against the new a bitter and hopeless struggle.
+But I had never seen the man so stirred as
+he was this day. He went on:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What of the teachings for your young? They
+may do for your country, but not for mine! So
+far as I can see, your boys and girls are left to
+grow as weeds. They are as free as the foxes and
+learn their cunning without their wisdom. They
+are without filial piety. They reverence neither
+ancestors, the law, nor the great gods. Neither do
+they fear their own devil, nor the evil spirits."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"How do you know this?" I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I know because I have seen their comings and
+goings. I have heard their free speech before the
+face of their parents and mothers-in-law. And I
+have seen them as visitors in the temples. Because"&mdash;the
+man's voice shook with feeling&mdash;"I have
+in my house a girl with the blood of the East in
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>her veins and the influence of the West in her life.
+She is rebellious, rude and irreverent. Only this
+morning, when I gave warning what vengeance the
+great Buddha would send upon her for impiety, did
+she not toss her red head and laughingly scoff in my
+face." At this point I arose and rang for tea and
+my visitor continued: "Ah, I tremble at her daring.
+It is her foreign blood, her training. It will
+curse us yet."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I cheerfully assured him that I thought it would
+unless he could bring himself to see that the girl
+was entitled to a few rights as well as himself. I
+inquired how things had gone since Zura's visit
+to me. He said she had not often referred to her
+visit; when she did it was in pleasant terms. But
+her attitude to him and his household was as disrespectful
+as ever and, he thought, more defiant.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He then spoke of a great Buddhist festival that
+had begun that week and was to continue for several
+days. It was very important that each member
+of his family should attend and take part in every
+service. So far Zura had refused to go. With
+sketch-book in hand she disappeared from the house
+every morning. While he had not seen or heard of
+her being with the young officer man, he had no
+doubt she spent her time in his company.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;In as few words as possible I told Kishimoto of
+my interview with Mr. Chalmers, and his promise
+not to come again nor to further complicate matters.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My listener was more than pleased. "I thank
+you," he said impressively. "You are a strong-minded
+woman."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I remarked that Japan was no place for a
+weak-minded one he seemed to think again about
+smiling, but changed his mind and asked me solemnly
+if I would not honor him by coming to
+his house the following evening and, with his
+family, attending the great festival on the last
+night.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I accepted the invitation and he left.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the evening Page Hanaford came to dinner.
+When I told him Zura had returned to her home,
+the smile on his face faded. It spread to his lips
+and eyes as I rehearsed the close of my interview
+with Mr. Chalmers.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I sincerely hope that danger is passed," I said
+earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I would not consider Mr. Chalmers dangerous
+by nature, only by thoughtlessness," remarked Page;
+"his bravado needs seasoning like his youth. Will
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>you not let me help you, Miss Gray?" he exclaimed
+as that lady came in almost smothered in the packages
+her frail arms held.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! it's just grand&mdash;how many nice people
+there are in the world," the little missionary said
+enthusiastically, when relieved of her burdens and
+seated. "That druggist gentleman was lovely. I
+bought a jar of vaseline, and he found out I could
+talk English. Then I found out he was trying to
+talk it; I told him about my hospital, and he gave
+me all these splendid medicines I brought in.
+There's court-plaster and corn-salve and quinine
+and tooth-powder and a dozen milk bottles for the
+babies, and plenty of cans to put things in. That's
+a good start for my drug store."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"The drug store and the patients, but the building!"
+I exclaimed. "Only a dream! I don't want
+to be a cold-water dasher but, Jane Gray, where will
+your visions lead you?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"To Heaven, Miss Jenkins; that's where they
+were meant to lead. My hospital is a dream now
+because it is not built. But it's going to be soon;
+I know it. Didn't that splendid Japanese man
+clothe and educate hundreds of orphans for years
+on faith, pure and simple? Of course my little
+hospital is on the way! What better proof does
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>anybody want than the story of Mr. Hoda's Orphan
+Asylum?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Give us the story," urged Page, sinking into a
+big chair, after he had made Jane comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Indeed I will. I love to tell it for Mr. Hoda
+certainly sold his soul for the highest price."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"When he was a very young and ambitious man,
+doing without food to get his medical education,
+three homeless babies fell into his hands. He and
+his mother lived on a little less and made room for
+the children. Soon more waifs drifted in. Mr.
+Hoda couldn't turn them away, but he wondered
+where he was to get the food for them. Then he
+had a vision and a dream. In it a great famine
+was sweeping the land. He saw a Man beautiful,
+but sorrowful, toiling up a steep mountain, with
+His arms full of helpless children and more clinging
+to His white garments. This wonderful Being
+turned and saw the great pity in Mr. Hoda's
+eyes, then called back, 'Help me care for the many
+that are left. I will never forsake you nor them.'
+After that, Mr. Hoda knew what his work was.
+He fought so hard to follow his vision he burned
+all his doctor's books for fear he might be tempted.
+He had gone hungry to buy those books. A long
+time after, Mr. Hoda didn't care about them, for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>his vision brought him the beautifulest faith. He
+knew food and clothing for the children would
+come, and often there hasn't been a bite nor a
+penny in the house and almost time for the dinner
+bell to ring, when from somewhere food or the
+way to buy it, would come pouring in as though
+that Orphan Asylum was built in a land filled with
+manna and flowing with honey. Mr. Hoda and his
+flock of orphans have waited but never wanted.
+I'm waiting; but I am just as sure of my dream
+as I am of my friends."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Of course you are," encouraged Page. "Talk
+of removing mountains! Why, a faith like that
+would set a whole Himalayan range to dancing.
+You are a great little missionary, Miss Gray."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Thank you, Mr. Page; missionaries are not
+great. We can't help living what we believe.
+Wouldn't you be very happy if you were as certain
+and sure of all your dreams as we are?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Happy!" cried the boy, getting up and walking
+about. "I'd give a life-time to know&mdash;never
+mind. Your hospital will come true. When it
+does we will ask the city to decorate as it is doing
+to-day for some big festival. My! the streets look
+like bargain day in Christmas trees," he ended, recovering
+some of his light spirits.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"That's so. There is a festival. What is it,
+Miss Jenkins?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I explained the meaning of the festival, which
+was more strictly observant of ritual and old customs
+than any other of the year, and I told of
+Kishimoto San's invitation to me.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Miss Gray exclaimed anxiously, "But you are
+not going?" Jane was slow in shaking off the
+limitations of the doctrine that branded all religions
+in a foreign country as idolatrous and contaminating.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I said I intended going.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, Miss Jenkins," Jane cried, "do be careful!
+They might ask you to bow down before one
+of those heathen idols, and maybe they might make
+you offer at its feet a stick of something smelly in
+one of those insect burners."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For the first time since I had known Page Hanaford,
+he shouted with laughter. "Sweet aroma of
+incense, that's a blow for you!" he said. "Come
+to think of it, I believe I'll happen along and see
+how it's done."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2>
+
+<h3>ZURA GOES TO THE FESTIVAL</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;On my way to join the festival party at the
+appointed time I passed through the streets
+of the city, brilliant with decorations of flags and
+lanterns. Gay crowds sauntered beneath graceful
+arches of pine and lacey bamboo. For the time
+worry and work were laid aside with every-day
+dress, and like smiling, happy children on a picnic,
+the vast throngs moved toward the temple where
+the great "Matsuri" was in progress. A man deaf
+and blind would have known it was a holiday by
+the feel in the air. He would also have felt as I
+did the change in the atmosphere as he neared
+Kishimoto's house.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The maid, who answered my summons, said the
+family would soon be ready to start; the hairdresser
+had finished; the ceremonial obis were being tied
+for the madams; the Dana San had about completed
+his devotions before the household shrine.
+Would I bring my most august body into the living-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>room
+and hang my honorable self upon the floor?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I complied with the request and found Zura
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Considering the strained relations at our last parting
+and the solemnity of the present occasion, she
+greeted me with a flippancy that was laughable.
+"Oh, here's Miss Jenkins! Welcome to our happy
+home, and I certainly wish you joy on this jaunt."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Are you not going with us?" I asked, observing
+that she carried in her hand a paint-box as well
+as her hat.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Not I," she laughed. "I'd picnic with Mrs.
+Satan and her family first. But do come in. The
+ogre awaits you. One of the two witches has just
+had a spell."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Which one?" I inquired, putting into my
+question every inviting tone at my command. I
+was determined to get on terms of friendliness with
+this girl. Had not I in the long ago longed for
+liberty and for life as I had never craved orthodox
+salvation? Not even to myself had I acknowledged
+how strong an appeal to my love of fair play, was
+Zura's frank rebellion against being reduced to an
+emotionless creature guaranteed to move at the
+command of her Masters.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;All her warfare had been in the open. At no
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>time in her visit to me, did she mention the unhappy
+conditions at her home nor voice complaints
+of its inmates.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Undisciplined, untrained as she was, there was in
+her nature a certain reserve which compelled admiration.
+When not on the defensive for what she
+considered her rights, she had a decided sweetness
+that drew me irresistibly. I did not approve of her
+methods, but my sympathy was deep for this child
+of freedom forced to live in the painful restrictions
+of a conservative Japanese family.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was beginning to see that Zura would break
+long before she would bend. To break at all meant
+disaster. To break alone meant ruin. She was of
+my country, my people. Without further ado I
+arrayed myself on the side of the one who had four
+against her.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before she answered my question, she looked at
+me as a chained creature might eye a strange hand
+to see if it were outstretched for a caress or a blow.
+Having decided, she went on, "The ancientest one.
+Some red lilies I carried brought on the fit. An
+hour ago I gathered a few from the rice fields and
+took them to my room. When the old dame saw
+their crimson petals she began to foam at the mouth
+and splutter a lot of nonsense about the flowers
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>being tongues of flame; she said they would set
+the house on fire and burn us all to a cinder. If
+I thought that I'd bring a cartload, and then run.
+She took them away and threw them in the hot
+bath. The lovely things shriveled like scalded baby
+hands. About then, my august grandfather arrived
+on the scene. He ordered me to put on Japanese
+dress and come to their old festival. I've
+planned otherwise, and I won't do it." She put
+on her hat and stabbed it with a long pin.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Look here, Zura," I ventured, "you'll miss a
+joyfully good time if you don't go. The country
+people swarm to these festivals, and babies are as
+thick as ants. You'll see more pictures than you
+can paint in a life-time. There are queer things to
+buy and funny things to eat. The fire-walking
+ceremony is wonderful."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;This caught her attention. "What do they do
+at this ceremony?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It has been a long time since I saw it, but I
+remember it was thrilling to watch the worshipers
+walk barefoot over the hot coals. Come along with
+me, Zura. Come on," I urged, seeking in my mind
+for a more persuasive word and finding a memory
+of Mr. Pinkey Chalmers to help me out, "and we'll
+make a night of it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;I saw nothing humorous in what I had said, but
+it had a curious effect on Zura. She changed her
+mind so swiftly, her manner grew so gleeful, I
+thought maybe I had made a promise I could not
+keep.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"All right, old sport," she laughed with reckless
+gaiety, "I'll go; you stick to me and I'll give you
+the time of your young life. But make it clear to
+the devotees in this house that I won't tie myself
+up in a kimono; neither will I bend an inch before
+any of those dropsical-looking images."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Soon we heard the rustle of the Master's silken
+garments. He entered, closely followed by his
+mother, wife and daughter, their kimonos and obis
+in colors soft and mellow as befitted older women,
+and each covered with an overcoat thin of texture
+and rich in quality. This outer garment was the
+insignia not only of rank, but of the grave importance
+of the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Their greetings to me were soon over, and Zura
+announced that she was going with us.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Without a glimmer of pleasure in her seeming
+willingness to obey, her grandfather said, "It is
+well."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Had he glanced at the girl when he voiced it,
+he would have chosen other words. In her very
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>bright eyes there was a look which boded no spirit
+of good will.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San, with his mother, led the way on
+our pilgrimage. We followed behind; and bringing
+up the rear was an army of servants loaded with
+blankets, cushions and hampers of food. It was
+to be a long session of worship and festivities, and
+the family would need all the comforts of home
+before their return.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The festival was called "Tanjo Shaka" (Buddha's
+Birthday), and as our little party passed
+through the great gates the crowds of holiday-makers,
+which thronged the enclosure, testified to
+the popularity of the day. The broad avenue leading
+to the steps of the old temple was lined on each
+side by temporary booths, from which one could
+purchase anything from a hot sweet potato to a
+much-decorated prayer, from false teeth to a charm
+to ward off the chicken-pox.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There was a man who made a dainty fan while
+you waited; the cook who made a cake while you
+prayed; the handkerchief man and the sock man;
+and ah me! the funny old codger, bald of head and
+shriveled of body, but with a bit of heaven in his
+weary old eyes. It was the reflection of the baby
+faces about him. His was the privilege of fash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>ioning
+from sticky, sweet dough wonderful flowers
+of brilliant hue and the children flocked about him
+like birds of Paradise to a field of grain.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;On every side were set up images of the infant
+Buddha. Around these, worshipers crowded that
+they might purchase some portion of the licorice
+tea poured over the image and supposed to guard
+against many evils.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Groups of white-garbed pilgrims from distant
+cities passed on to worship, their tinkling bells keeping
+time to the soft pad of their sandaled feet. Under
+the overhanging boughs of the ancient trees
+were placed low platforms spread with bright red
+blankets, and thereon sat the family groups. In
+these throngs very few were well off in worldly
+possessions. For the masses this day meant curtailment
+of necessities for many other days. It
+was a willing sacrifice, for, having done duty at
+the temple and cheerfully contributed their hard-earned
+"rin," they yielded themselves up to the
+enjoyment of being set free, in a space where neither
+worry nor want were permitted to enter, where
+their poor lives touched something higher or less
+sordid than themselves. The day was a gift of the
+gods and they would be merry, for to-morrow was
+toil and poverty. It was neither satisfying nor
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>permanent but all so simple and happy. Only a
+heartless stickler for creed and dogma would have
+labeled it idolatry or banished from the garden of
+the temple the participants who were childlike in
+their enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It took us some time to make our way to the
+building where Kishimoto guided us that he with
+his family might first offer their devotions. Once
+there, the ceremony began. I was not expected to
+participate and stood aside. It was not without
+anxiety that I heard the grandfather give a stern
+command to Zura to approach and kneel with him
+before the great bronze image, and her equally rigid
+refusal to do so.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With difficulty the proud old Buddhist refrained
+from creating a scene before the other worshipers,
+but it was plain that he was stung to the quick for
+the honor of his religion. From the look in his
+face he only bided his time.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The girl moved nearer to me and none too quietly
+mocked priest and worshiper gaily. Both maid and
+man seemed determined once for all to settle the
+supremacy of will. They were like two warriors
+measuring their strength before the final contest.
+The slip of a dark-eyed girl seemed an adversary
+easily disposed of. Though justly angered, her
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>opponent had learned that if from him she had
+inherited tenacity of will, the legacy from her father
+had been an invincible belief in her individual
+right and courage to assert it.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;After this clash we walked about till it was time
+for the evening meal. It was served in an open
+tea-house. Hospitable and kind to the last degree,
+both host and hostesses pressed upon me every dainty
+eatable, and tried by all they knew to dispel the
+gathering clouds. I was touched by their efforts
+and did my best to smooth the way to peace, but
+my endeavors were vain. It was a conflict of conditions
+in which were both wrong and right, but
+which not to the end of time would ever be reconciled.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At last the family sat apart and talked in low
+tones. Zura moved closer to me and, though white-lipped
+and restless after the many encounters with
+her grandfather, her spirit was undaunted.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2>
+
+<h3>A BROKEN SHRINE</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The feast over, we moved on. The servants
+were left to pack up, and instructed to join
+the family at a certain shrine some distance away;
+devotions at that place would end the festival.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The closing down of night was like the working
+of some magic. From every point of temple,
+shrine, and tree sprang a light. Fireworks shaped
+like huge peonies, lilies, and lesser flowers spluttered
+in the air. Myriad lights turned the garden
+into a place of enchantment. In the hand of every
+feaster swung a paper lantern, gay in color, daring
+in design, its soft glow reflected on the happy face
+above. The whole enclosure seemed to be a bit
+of fairy land, where workaday people were transformed
+into beings made only for the pleasures of
+life.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I kept close to Zura regardless of where she led,
+for all she saw seemed not only to increase her interest,
+but to intensify her reckless mood. On our
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>way we paused at a Pagoda. A group of priests
+were marching around it chanting some ritual.
+They were very solemn and their voices most weird.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What are they doing with their throats, Miss
+Jenkins?" asked Zura.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Singing."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Singing! Well, they know as much about
+singing as tit-willows do about grand opera. But
+the colors of those gorgeous robes are fascinating.
+Aren't the curves of that roof lovely? See how
+the corners turn up. Exactly like the mustache of
+the little band master at home. Oh, look at those
+darling kiddies!" she suddenly exclaimed, going
+swiftly to the nearby stand of a cake man.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A dozen children or so, wistful-eyed and a bit
+sad, stood around. These were the city rats and
+street waifs, who only came from their holes after
+dark. Too poor to buy, they could only gaze and
+wish. The old man, for the sake of the hungry
+birdlings at home, could give no further of his
+store.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura stopped before the little heaps of sweet
+dough. The children closed about her. None were
+afraid, and all instinctively felt her friendship. Her
+bargain was quickly made. Soon each child had
+a large share not only of cake, but also of tiny
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>flags and paper cherry blossoms which had adorned
+the owner's booth. Zura emptied a small knitted
+purse of "rins" and "sens." She had told me
+earlier that she had sold a picture to a postcard
+man. The cake dealer got it all.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We left the children open-mouthed, gazing at
+the "Ojosan" (honorable elder sister) who had
+proved nothing less than a goddess; but the girl
+heeded neither their looks nor their thanks, for we
+had come upon the ancient rite of firewalking, once
+a holy ceremony for the driving out of demons, now
+used for the purpose of proving the protection of
+the gods for the devout.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;On a mat of straw, overspread by a thick layer
+of sand, was a bed of charcoal kept glowing by
+attendants armed with fans attached to long poles.
+Priests were intoning a prayer to the god of water,
+who lived in the moon, to descend with vengeance
+upon the god of fire. With much twisting of fingers
+and cabalistic waving of hands, a worshiper
+would draw something from a bag purchased from
+the priest. This he told the onlookers was spirit
+powder. Sprinkling a part of it on the fire and
+rubbing his feet with what was left he would cross
+the live coals, arriving at the other end unharmed.
+His swaggering air, indicating "I am divinely pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>tected,"
+deeply impressed the wondering crowd.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Absorbed in watching the fantastic scene, I failed
+for some time to notice Zura's absence from my
+side. Neither was she with her family, who were
+near by. Anxiously turning to search for her, I
+saw her opposite in a cleared space and, through
+the background of an eager, curious crowd, Page
+Hanaford hurriedly pushing his way to the front.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At the edge of the fire stood Zura without shoes
+or stockings.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page saw. His voice rang out, "Miss Wingate!
+I beg of you!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For a moment she poised as light as a bird; then,
+lifting her dress, she quickly walked across the
+burning coals. The sparks flew upward, lighting
+the bronze and gold in her hair, showing too her
+face, a study in scornful daring.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The lookers-on cheered, some crying, "Skilful,
+skilful!" and others, "Brave as an empress!"
+"She is protected by her foreign god."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Heedless of the crowds, as if they were not, Zura
+took her hat, shoes, and stockings from the adoring
+small boy who held them and rejoined me. I
+glanced around at the family. The women's faces
+said nothing. To at least two of them, Zura was
+a strange being not of their kind and with whom
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>they had nothing to do. But the look in Kishimoto
+San's eyes made me shrink for the fate of
+the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Laying my hand upon her arm I asked, "Oh,
+Zura, why did you do it? Aren't your feet
+burned?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Burned! Nonsense! They are not even overheated.
+I used some of their spirit powder, which
+is plain salt. I did it to prove to myself that all
+they teach and do is fakery."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page joined us, inquiring anxiously, "You are
+not hurt? I call it plucky, but very foolish.
+Didn't you hear me call to you?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura, looking up from fastening her shoe, replied
+stiffly, "Mr. Hanaford, once is quite enough for
+you to interfere with my affairs."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The boy flushed, then smiled, and dropped to the
+rear.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As she spoke I could but notice her voice was a
+little less joyous. It sounded a note of weariness
+as if her high spirit, though unconquered, was a
+bit tired of the game.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In depressed silence our party mingled with the
+throng on its way to the shrine where the last
+tribute was to be paid. The place of devotion was
+in a dense grove, isolated and weird. A single
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>upright post held a frail, box-like contrivance. The
+inner recess of this was supposed to hold a relic of
+Buddha&mdash;some whispered a finger, some a piece
+of the great teacher's robe; but whatever the holy
+emblem, both place and shrine were surrounded with
+a veil of superstitious mystery and held in awe.
+A lonely taper burned before the shrine, dimly lighting
+a small opening covered with ground glass
+and disclosed above a written warning to all
+passers-by to stop and offer prayer or else be
+cursed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The crowd of worshipers paid tribute, but rather
+than pass on, lingered in the shadow, their curious
+eyes fixed upon the half-foreign girl.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was splendid for her to brave the fire-god, but
+no living soul dared face the Holy Shrine with the
+scorn Zura's face and manner so plainly showed.
+Admiration melted into distrust. They would wait
+and see the end.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One by one my host, his mother, wife and daughter
+passed before the relic and reverently bowed.
+Then they stood aside in a silent group, slightly
+apart from Page and me. It was Zura's turn. In
+the face of Kishimoto San, as he looked at his
+granddaughter, was concentrated the power of his
+will and all the intolerant passion of his religion.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>He looked and he waited&mdash;in vain. The girl did
+not move.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When he finally spoke, his voice was low, but his
+words fairly stabbed the air. "Obey me! Approach
+and bow!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura seemed to be turned to stone. But her
+words were as clear and as measured as his own.
+"I will not! Now or ever!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Past all endurance of the girl's disrespect, the man
+made one step forward, grasped Zura by the shoulders,
+and pushed her towards the shrine. The
+force sent her forward. As she stumbled she seized
+a bamboo pole. With it she gave one swift blow.
+At our feet the little shrine lay shattered, and out
+of its secret recess rolled a pasteboard box, mildewed
+and empty.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then, like the hissing wind, rose the quick anger
+of the people.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At the same instant Page and the crowd rushed
+toward Zura, who, with bamboo stick in her raised
+hand, stood white and defiant.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A coolie made a lunge at her. With closed fist
+Page Hanaford struck him full in the face; the
+other arm shielded Zura. Another man spat at
+her, and met the fate of his brother from Page's
+well-directed blow. There is nothing so savage as
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>a Japanese mob when roused to anger. Knowing
+them to be cruel and revengeful, my heart stood
+still as I watched the throng close about Page and
+Zura. I knew the boy single-handed could not hold
+out long before the outraged worshipers.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then above the noise and curses and threats
+Kishimoto San's voice rang out. "Stop! you
+crawling vipers of the swamp! How dare you
+brawl before this sacred place? How dare you
+touch one of my blood! My granddaughter accounts
+to me, not to the spawn of the earth&mdash;such
+as you! Disperse your dishonorable bodies to your
+dishonored homes! Go!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Blind to reason, they cowered before a masterful
+mind. They knew the unbending quality of Kishimoto's
+will, his power to command, to punish. The
+number grew steadily less, leaving Page and Zura
+and her grandfather alone.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San turned to the girl and with words
+cold as icicles, cutting as a whiplash, dismissed the
+child of his only daughter from his house and home.
+He cared neither where she went, nor what she
+did. She no longer belonged to him or his kind.
+He disowned her. Her foreign blood would be
+curse enough.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Bidding his family follow, he turned and left.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>As Mrs. Wingate passed her disgraced offspring,
+with troubled voice and bewildered looks she repeated
+once more her set formula of reproof, "Oh,
+Zura! I no understand yo' naughty; I no like yo'
+bad."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The homeless girl, Page, and I were left in the
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Come with me, Zura," I said, not knowing
+what else to do; and the three of us made our way
+toward the high twinkling light that marked the
+House of the Misty Star.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As the boy walked beside her, hatless, tie and
+collar disarranged, I could but see what his defense
+of Zura had cost him in physical strength. His
+face twitched with the effort to control his shaking
+limbs; that strange illness had robbed him of
+so much.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Please, Mr. Hanaford, do not trouble to climb
+the steps with us," I urged. "There is no danger.
+By now the crowd is doubtless laughing over the
+whole thing."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, Miss Jenkins," he said, "I cannot leave
+you till you are safely shut in the house. Rather
+interesting, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Interesting! Well, I guess I know now what
+making a night of it means."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>It was my one attempt to lighten conversation.
+We went on in silence.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Wordless my other companion walked beside me.
+She gave no sign. Only once, when I stumbled,
+the hand she outstretched in quick support was shaking
+and cold.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;On reaching the house Page declined to come in;
+but, seeing the knuckles of his right hand torn and
+bleeding, I would take no refusal. "Boy, your
+hand is bleeding. Come right in and let me dress
+it," said I.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Don't trouble. It's nothing; only a bit of
+knocked-up skin. That coolie must have sharpened
+his teeth for the occasion."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura spoke for the first time as I made the room
+light. "Oh! I didn't know you were hurt, Mr.
+Hanaford. I am sorry. Let me see." She took
+his hand in both of hers and held it closer under
+the lamp. Still holding it, she lifted her eyes with
+sympathy to his. "I'm not worth it," she said
+softly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I did not hear Page's answer; but I thought he
+was almost gruff when he quickly drew away and
+walked to the window. He had nothing to say
+when I bandaged his hand, and he soon left.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was only a matter of a few minutes to light
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>the lamp and arrange the bed in the guest-room
+I had taken such pleasure in preparing before for
+Zura's visit. I went through these small duties
+without speaking. I bore no ill will to the girl
+who had been thrust upon me. My thoughts were
+too deep for anger against the wayward child whose
+start in life had been neither fair nor just. But in
+separating herself from her family she had done
+the most serious thing a girl can do in whose veins
+runs the blood of a Japanese. Everything ready,
+I said good-night as kindly as circumstances would
+permit.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura put out her hand and thanked me. A smile
+twitched her lips as she said, "Never mind, Miss
+Jenkins. Don't be troubled. No use fighting
+against fate and freckles." The tears in her voice
+belied her frivolous words.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Anxious for what might happen, I sat for the
+rest of the night in the room adjoining the one
+occupied by my unexpected guest. Twice before
+the coming of the dawn there reached me from the
+farther chamber sounds of a soul in conflict&mdash;the
+first battle of a young girl in a strange land, facing
+the future penniless and heavily handicapped.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was a lonely vigil and a weary one.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2>
+
+<h3>A DREAM COMES TRUE</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If becoming a member of my household was a
+turning-point in Zura's life, in mine it was
+nothing less than a small-sized revolution, moving
+with the speed of a typhoon.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The days piled into weeks; the weeks plunged
+head-foremost into eternity, and before we could
+say "how d'y' do" to lovely summer, autumn had
+put on her splendid robes of red and yellow and
+soft, dull brown.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If once I yearned for things to happen, I now
+sometimes pined for a chance, as one of my students
+put it, "to shut the door of think and rest my tired
+by suspended animation." For I had as much idea
+about rearing girls as I had on the subject of training
+young kangaroos. But it grew plainer to me
+every day my nearly ossified habits would have to
+disintegrate. Also I must learn to manipulate the
+r&ocirc;le of mother without being one.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Soon after the girl's break with her family the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>ineffective child-woman who had given Zura life
+passed quietly into the great Silence before the
+daughter could be summoned. Though Zura was
+included among the mourners at the stately funeral,
+she had no communication with her grandfather.
+Afterwards the separation was final.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once only I visited Kishimoto San's house and
+had an interview with him. He was courteous, and
+his formality more sad than cold. He would never
+again take Zura into his house; neither would he
+interfere with her. Her name had been stricken
+from his family register. As long as I was kind
+enough to give her shelter, he would provide for
+her. Further than that he would not go, "for his
+memory had long ears and he could never forget."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was a painful hour which I did not care to repeat.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I acquainted Zura with her grandfather's decision.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her only comment was, "His memory has long
+ears, has it? So has mine, and they'll grow
+longer, for I have longer to live."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the first intimate talk I had with my prot&eacute;g&eacute;e,
+her one idea was to earn the money to return to
+America, where there was "more chance to make a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>living." So far as she knew her father was without
+relatives. There was no one to look to for help.
+But she could work; she knew many girls who
+worked; and there was always "something to do"
+in Seattle.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"How good it will be to get back to it. Wish I
+could get a whiff of the air right now. Yes, indeed!
+I am American to the ends of my fingers,
+and hallelujah to the day when I sail back."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I entered into her plans with enthusiasm, reserving
+my determination never to lose sight of her till
+she was in safer hands than mine.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She was very eager to begin earning money for
+her passage home, offering to teach, to scrub, and
+even to learn to cook, if we'd learn to eat it.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I pointed out that, with her ability to sketch and
+her natural fascination for young girls, the forming
+of classes would be a simple matter. She was only
+to teach them drawing at first.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;To this she demurred; the pay was so poor that
+she pleaded to be allowed to have one little class in
+English.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was dubious; but, as it was only a beginner's
+class, I consented&mdash;upon her solemn promise to
+"cut out all ragtime classics and teach plain cats
+and dogs, rats and mice."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The process of readjustment in life is sometimes
+as painful as skin grafting. The passing of each
+day under the new conditions which Zura's coming
+had brought about marked for both of us either a decided
+growth or a complete backset. With earnestness
+I endeavored to make my old eyes see the world
+and all its allurements from the windows of Zura's
+uncontrolled youth. Earnestly I then appealed to
+her to try to understand that life was a school and
+not a playground and to look without prejudice at
+the reasonableness of conventions which life in any
+country demanded, if happiness was to come.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For the first time since I had known her the girl
+seemed fully to realize that regulated law was a
+force, and no bogey man which crabbed old grandfathers
+dangled before pleasure-loving girls, and for
+her running loose in the green pasture of life was
+at an end. The bit she must learn to wear would
+teach her to be bridle wise. However stupid, the
+process was an unavoidable necessity.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura was really serious when we finished our long
+conference. She leaned over and put her hand on
+mine. "Nobody but father was ever so kind to
+me. I'll truly do my best." As if afraid of growing
+too serious she added: "But, Miss Jenkins,"&mdash;her
+voice was low and her eyes sparkled, proving
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>how hard the old Zura was dying&mdash;"I just bet I
+kick over the traces some time. I feel it in my system."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You what?" I reminded.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Madam, I have a premonition that this process
+of eliminating the gay and the festive will be something
+of a herculean task. In other words, keeping
+in the middle of the road is a dull, tough job."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, Zura!" I cried despairingly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes'm. But from this minute I am starting
+down the track on the race for reformation. Give
+me time. Even a colt can't get a new character and
+a sweet disposition in a week."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As the days passed it proved not a race, but a
+hard, up-hill battle, where in gaining one fight she
+sometimes lost two, and while still aching with the
+last defeat had to begin all over again. The vision,
+though, of the home-going to America lured and
+beckoned her to the utmost effort to conquer not only
+circumstances, but herself.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane and I helped whenever we could, but there
+were places so dark through which the girl must
+pass alone, that not even our fast increasing love
+could light the shadows of the struggles.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I realized that a young girl should have young
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>company of her own kind; but there was none for
+her. In Hijiyama, and especially in our neighborhood,
+were many high-class families. Even members
+of the royal line claimed it as residence. With
+these the taint of foreign blood in any Japanese
+marked that person impossible. I dreaded to tell
+Zura this. She saved me the trouble by finding
+it out for herself. Ever afterward, when by chance
+she encountered the elect, her attitude caused me no
+end of delight and amusement. In courteous snubbing
+she outclassed the highest and most conservative
+to them. In absenting herself from their presence
+Zura's queenly dignity would have been matchless,
+had she been a little taller.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As much as possible, I made of myself a companion
+for her and the most of our days were spent
+together.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was a curious pact between young and old.
+One learning to keep the law, the other to break it,
+for in my efforts to be a gay comrade as well as a
+wise mother I came as near to breaking my neck
+as my well-seasoned habits. Zura had a passion for
+out-of-door sketching, as violent as the whooping
+cough and lasting longer and the particular view
+she craved proved always most difficult of access,
+It severely tested my durability and mettle. I
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>wondered if Zura had this in mind, but I stuck
+grimly to my task and though often with aching
+muscles and panting lungs, scrambled by dangerous
+paths to the edge of some precipice where I dared
+neither to stand up nor to sit down, but I had longed
+for excitement and happenings and dared not complain
+when my wish was fulfilled.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could always count upon it that, whatever place
+Zura chose, from there one could obtain the most
+splendid view of vast stretches of sea, the curve of
+a temple roof, a crooked pine, or a mass of blossom.
+She was as irresistibly drawn to the beautiful
+as love is to youth. Her passion for the lovely
+scenery of Japan amounted almost to worship.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had never been a model for anything. Now
+I was used as such by my companion indiscriminately,
+in the background, in the foreground and
+once as a grayhaired witch. I was commanded to
+sit still, to not wink an eyelash, though the mosquitoes
+feasted and the hornets buzzed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Fortunately the summer holiday gave me some
+leisure. I absorbed every moment seeking comprehension
+of youthful ways of looking at things,
+and in Zura's effort to reduce her wild gallop to a
+sober pace, the way was as rough for the girl, as the
+climb up the mountain side was for me. Often she
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>stumbled and was bruised in the fall. Brushing
+aside the tears of discouragement she pluckily faced
+about and tried again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There were many battles of tongue and spirit but
+when the smoke had been swept away, the vision was
+clearer, the purpose firmer.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;That monotony might not work disaster or routine
+grow irksome our workdays were interspersed with
+picnics, journeys to famous spots and, for the nights,
+moonlight sails on the Inland Sea.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page Hanaford was our frequent guest. To
+Jane and me his attitude was one of kindly deference
+and attention. Towards Zura it was the mighty
+call of youth to youth. She answered with ready
+friendship. It was easy to see that the boy was
+buoyant by nature, but the moods that sometimes
+overtook him were strange. Often at a moment
+when the merriment was at its height, the hand of
+some invisible enemy seemed to reach out and clutch
+him in a dumb horror, confused the frankness of
+his eyes, left him with bloodless lips. From light-hearted
+happiness he plunged to silent gloom.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Twice it had occurred when the day was heavy
+with moisture, thick and superheated by the summer's
+sun. The last time it happened, to the heat
+was added the excitement of a police launch stop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>ping
+our little pleasure craft and demanding our
+names and business. When it left Page grew silent
+and, until we landed, lay in the prow his face hidden
+by his hat. Mental or physical I could not say. I
+wished I knew for it subtracted the joy from the
+day as surely as dampness takes the kink out of unnatural
+curls.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I mentioned the incident to Jane, she only
+looked wise and smiled. I could almost believe she
+was glad, for it gave her unlimited opportunity for
+coddling. Zura made no comment. So great was
+the rebound partial freedom induced, her spirits refused
+to descend from the exhilarating heights of
+"having a good time and doing things." She
+blandly ignored any suggestion of hidden trouble,
+or the possibility of it daring to come in the future.
+Untiring in her preparations for our festivities,
+the hour of their happening found her so gracious
+a hostess, naturally she was the pivot around which
+the other three of us swung.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I wondered if, in our many festivities we were not
+forming habits of useless dissipation. Jane said
+our parties were much livelier than church socials at
+home. Our experienced leader assured me, however,
+these picnics were as slow as a gathering of
+turtles in a coral cave, but they continued, ceasing
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>only when the nights grew too chill for comfort.
+Our pleasures were then transferred to the homeyness
+of the little living-room in "The House of the
+Misty Star."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In my adoption of Zura the humor was incidental;
+in Zura's adoption of Jane it was uppermost. From
+the first the girl assumed proprietorship and authority
+that kept the little gray missionary see-sawing
+between pleasure and trouble. By Zura's merry
+teasing Jane's naturally stammering tongue was
+fatally twisted. She joked till tears were near; then
+with swift compunction Jane was caught in arms
+tender and strong and loved back to happiness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Like a mother guarding a busy careless child,
+Zura watched Miss Gray's comings and goings.
+Overshoes and wraps became a special subject of
+argument. There was no denying that in the arrangement
+of Jane's clothes there was a startling
+transformation.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My attention was called to this one morning when
+I heard a merry, audacious voice cry out, "See here,
+Lady Jinny, do you think it a hallmark of piety to
+have that hefty safety-pin showing in your waistband?
+Walk right back and get your belt."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, Zury," pleaded the harassed woman,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>"what's the use of putting it on? I'll just have
+to take it off to-night and, my dear, people are waiting
+for me."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Let 'em whistle, Sweetheart," was the unmoved
+response. "Even though the heathen roar, I cannot
+turn aside from my purpose of making you a
+Parisian fashion-plate."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, child! It is good of you to want to dress
+me up. But," with a half-laugh, "don't try to make
+me resemble one of those foreign fashion ladies. I
+saw one picture in a style paper that looked almost
+immoral. The placket of the dress was at the foot
+and showed two inches of the ankle."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Trust your mother, innocent child," Zura advised,
+"those picture ladies don't wear dresses, just
+symptoms and I'd slap anybody that would ask you
+to wear a symptom. Now, tell me where to search
+for your belt."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane, ever weak in certain resistances, yielded and
+adored the more while submitting.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Under Zura's care Jane's person grew neater and
+trimmer. In her face, now filled out with proper
+food and rest, there was a look of happiness as if
+some great hope foreshadowed fulfilment.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The self-appointed missionary in her talks with
+me seldom referred to her work in detail. I re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>spected
+her reserve and asked no questions, for I
+gravely doubted any good results from her labor.
+But to Zura she confided her plans and her dreams,
+and Zura having many dreams of her own, listened
+and sympathized. In all the Empire there was no
+collection of humanity that could surpass in degradation
+and sordid evil the inhabitants of the quarter
+that Jane Gray had chosen to uplift. Time and
+again the best-trained workers had experimented in
+this place. Men and women with splendid theories,
+and the courage to try them had given it up as hopeless,
+for fear of their lives.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once only I remonstrated with Miss Gray and
+that when there had been in that section an unprovoked
+murder of particular horror. The answer
+of the frail woman was:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I don't want to make you anxious, Miss Jenkins,
+but I must go back. The people are my
+friends. I've been charged with a message for
+them and I must deliver it. My poor life would
+be small forfeit, could I but make them fully understand."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I said no more for I thought if Jane was set on
+dying that way she'd just as well get all the pleasure
+out of it possible. To my surprise, unmolested and
+unafraid, she made her way through streets where
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>no one officer went alone. Haunts of criminals and
+gamblers, murderers in hiding followed by their unspeakable
+womenkind.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;This dream of Miss Gray's scorned to limit itself
+to a hospital for diseased bodies of the wretched inhabitants,
+but included a chapel for sick souls.
+These days it was difficult enough to get money for
+real things, the unreal stood no chance. Without
+resources of her own, backed by no organization,
+it seemed to me, like a child planning a palace. To
+the little missionary the dawn of each glorious day
+brought new enthusiasm, fresh confidence and the
+vision was an ever beckoning fire, which might
+consume her body if it would accomplish her desire.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At present she rented a tiny house in the Quarters
+and called it her preaching place. I was told that to
+it flocked the outcasts of life who listened in silent
+curiosity to the strange foreign woman delivering
+a message from a stranger foreign God.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As the days went by the members of my household
+were deeply absorbed in dreams of a hospital, pursuit
+of passage money to America, and wisdom in
+guiding girls.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In all the years in my adopted country I'd never
+seen so lovely an autumn. Colors were brighter, the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>haze bluer, and far more tender the smile of the
+heavens on the face of the waters.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The song of the North wind through the top of
+the ancient pines was no melancholy dirge of the
+dying summer, but a hymn of peace and restful joy
+to the coming winter.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One lovely day melted into another. The year
+was sinking softly to its close when one evening
+found Zura, Jane and me quietly at work in the
+living-room of the House of the Misty Star. Jane
+was knitting on the eternal bibs, Zura adding figures
+in a little book.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Our quiet was broken by a knock at the door.
+Maple Leaf appeared bearing on a tray a pink folded
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It's a cable; I know its color," exclaimed Zura,
+"and it's for Miss Jane Gray."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With shaking fingers Jane tore open the message.
+She read, then dropped her face in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What is it?" I asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It's the hospital."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"In a cable?" cried Zura. "Think of that and
+break into tears."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, the money for it."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Money! Where did you get it?" I demanded,
+thinking that Jane had suddenly gone crazy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I prayed and wrote letters," she answered.
+"Read."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Still doubting I took the paper and read aloud:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Build hospital. Draft for four thousand dollars on way.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Friends of the Cause.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For minutes the ticking of the clock sounded like
+the dropping of pebbles in a still pool. I could not
+speak, for the wonder of a miracle was upon me.
+By faith the impossible had come to pass. Finally
+Jane looked up and asked wistfully, "Oh! Zury,
+aren't you glad for me?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Glad!" echoed the girl, leaning over and caressing
+the faded cheek. "I'm as happy as if I were
+pinning on my own orange blossoms this minute.
+Dear, dear little Jinny with her beautiful dream
+coming true!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had never thought Zura beautiful. Now, as she
+bent over Jane, flushed with excitement, her eyes
+deep glowing, her shining hair flashing back the
+red of the firelight, she was as brilliant as a
+golden pheasant hovering above a little gray sparrow.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With some sudden memory the girl stood erect
+and reached for a calendar. "Hurrah!" she cried,
+"It's true! To-morrow is Thanksgiving at home.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>We are going to celebrate too, if I have to sell my
+shoes."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Seeing Jane still shaken with emotion and the
+glad tears so close to hand, Zura jumped up on a
+chair and began to read from the calendar as if it
+were a proclamation:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Know all ye! Wherever you be up above or
+down below, far or near on the to-morrow, by my
+command, every citizen of these United States is to
+assemble all by himself, or with his best girl and give
+thanks. Thanks for living and for giving. Thanks
+for hospitals and people to build them. Sermons to
+preach and sinners to hear. Then give thanks and
+still more thanks, that to you and to me, the beautifulest
+land the good God ever made spells home, and
+friends, and America! Amen."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A THANKSGIVING DINNER</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;More and more Zura had assumed the duties
+of our housekeeping. The generous sum
+Kishimoto San promptly forwarded each month for
+her maintenance so relieved the financial pressure
+that I was able to relax somewhat my vigilance over
+the treasury. So I stepped aside that her ambition
+and energy might have full expression. I knew that
+absorbing work erases restlessness in mind and heart
+as effectively as a hot iron smooths out a rough-dried
+cloth. I urged her to further experiments
+and made a joke of her many mistakes, ofttimes
+when it was sheer waste of material. But what mattered
+that? Better to die softheaded, than hardhearted.
+I wanted the girl to be happy. Rather
+than be separated, I would let her make a bonfire
+of every bean, potato and barrel of flour in the
+house. As even the sun has specks on it, I saw no
+reason to be too critical of my understudy, whose
+shortcomings grew less as she grew prettier.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;With all the cocksureness of youth, Zura seized
+the domestic steering gear. Sometimes the weather
+was very fair and we sailed along. Often it was
+squally, but the crew was merry, and I was happy.
+I had something of my very own to love.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;To Pine Tree and Maple Leaf and the ancient
+cook the young housekeeper was a gifted being from
+a wonderful country where every woman was a
+princess. Unquestioningly they obeyed and adored
+her, but Ishi to whom no woman was a princess and
+all of them nuisances&mdash;stood proof against Zura's
+every smile and coaxing word. Love of flowers
+amounted to a passion with the old gardener. To
+him they were living, breathing beings to be adored
+and jealously protected. His forefathers had ever
+been keepers of this place. He inherited all their
+garden skill and his equal could not be found in the
+Empire. For that reason, I forgave his backsliding
+seventy times one hundred and seventy, and kept
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Often Zura took the children she used as models
+for her pictures into the garden and loaded them
+with flowers. On the mossy banks they romped and
+indulged in feasts of tea and crackers. Ishi would
+stand near and invoke the vengeance of eighty thousand
+deities to descend and annihilate this forward
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>girl from a land of barbarians. Finding his deities
+failed to respond, he threatened to cast his unworthy
+body upon the point of a sword, if Zura cut another
+bud. But I knew, if Ishi's love of flowers failed
+to prevent so tragic an end, his love of sake would
+do so.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For years the garden had been his undisturbed
+kingdom, and now that it should be invaded and the
+flowers cut without his permission and frequently
+without his knowledge enraged him to the bursting
+point. His habits were as set as the wart on his
+nose and he proposed to change neither one nor the
+other. "Most very bad," he wailed to me. "All
+blossoms soul have got. Bad girl cut off head of
+same; peaceful makes absence from their hearts.
+Their weep strikes my ear."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;So on the day we were to celebrate Thanksgiving
+and Jane's happiness, and Zura had declared her
+intention of decorating every spot in the house, I
+was not surprised to hear coming from the garden
+sounds of an overheated argument. "Ishi, if it
+weren't for hurting the feelings of the august pig
+I would say you were it. Stand aside and let me
+cut those roses. There's a thousand of them, if
+there's one."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The protest came high and shrill. "Decapitate
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>heads! You sha'n't not! All of ones convey soul
+of great ancestors."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do they?"&mdash;in high glee&mdash;"all right, I'll
+make the souls of your blessed ancestors serve as
+a decoration for America's glorious festival day."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The outraged Ishi fairly shrieked. "Ishi's ancestors!
+America! You have blasphemeness. I
+perish to recover!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hostilities were suspended for a minute.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then Zura's fresh young voice called out from
+below my window: "Ursula, please instruct this
+bow-legged image of an honorable monkey to let
+me cut the roses. Hurry, else my hand may get
+loose and 'swat' him."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;What the child meant by "swat" I had no idea;
+neither did I care. She had called me "Ursula!"
+Since childhood I had not heard the name. Coming
+from her lips it went through me like a sharp,
+sweet pain. Had she beheaded every rose and old
+Ishi in the bargain I would have smiled, for something
+in me was being satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I gave orders to Ishi, to which Zura added, "You
+are to take your dishonorable old body to the furthermost
+shrine, and repent of your rudeness to
+your young mistress." As he turned his angry back
+upon her, she inquired in honeyed tones, "Mercy,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>Ishi! How did you ever teach your face to look
+that way? Take it to a circus! It will make a
+fortune!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Very soon after she came into the room so laden
+with roses that I could just see her face. "Aren't
+they darlings?" she exclaimed. "Poor old Ishi, I
+can't blame him much!" Then to me, "Say, beautifulest,
+tell you what: I'll arrange these flowers
+and I promise, if I find a sign of an ancestor, I'll
+go at once and apologize to his mighty madness&mdash;if
+you will write a note to Mr. Hanaford and bid
+him to the Thanksgiving feast."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I agreed, and she went her busy way. In addressing
+the note to Page, I was reminded that a
+few days before his servant had called for a package
+of his master's clothing which Jane and I kept
+in repair. To my surprise the servant said that
+Hanaford San had gone away on business.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Possibly my look of astonishment at the news
+invited confidence. After glancing around to make
+sure we were alone, he approached and in mixed
+Japanese and broken English told me how his heart
+was weighed "with anxious" for his employer.
+He said his master was very kind. Therefore,
+Master's trouble was his. Sometimes the young
+man was happy and sang tunes through whistle of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>lips; but one day he walked the floor all night.
+Lately he sat by the windows long hours and look
+fast into picture scenery. He feared illness for
+master. Often he forget to sing, whistle, and eat
+foods; just sit with hand on head. "One time I
+say 'Master, have got painful in brain spot? Or
+have fox spirit got brain?' He give big laugh;
+then myself makes many fools to see happy stay
+with master."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He wished Hanaford San had some people, but
+in his room was not one picture of ancestor. He
+never had a happy time with many guests, and
+samisens and feast drinks, like other young American
+Dana Sans in Yokohama. When not teaching
+he sat alone with only his pipe and heart for company,
+sometimes a book.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was not polite for him to speak of Master's
+affairs but he hoped the foreign Sensies could advise
+him how to make Hanaford San have more
+happy thoughts all of time.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I told the boy that Mr. Hanaford had lost his
+money and all his people, and probably it was
+thoughts of these losses that caused his sad hours;
+he would be all right in time.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Time," murmured the unsatisfied man, "time
+very long for troubled heart of young."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then, as if trying to forget that he was powerless
+to help, he began to recite the events of a recent
+visit to the city of a group of Tokio's famous detectives.
+They were searching for special fugitives
+and making the rounds of all suspicious quarters.
+It was most exciting and because of master's absence
+he had been able to see much. Though he
+wished Page had been at home. It might have
+entertained him. With many thanks for my "listening
+ear" the servant left.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Everywhere I looked I seemed to see this question
+written: Was Page Hanaford's absence at
+the time of the detectives' visit accidental or
+planned? Try as I would to put the hateful thought
+away from me, it came back again and again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The boy's slow return to health had troubled me
+more than I could well say. It was so unnatural.
+Jane and I did everything that sincere affection
+could suggest to ward off the hours of strange dejection,
+and he never failed in appreciation; yet we
+made no headway to a permanent sunny spot in
+his life, where he could be always happy and healthy,
+as was the right of youth. I gave him every opportunity
+to tell me what caused his moods. I showed
+him by my interest and sympathy that I wanted
+to believe in him and would stand by him at any
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>cost. There were times when he seemed on the
+verge of making a confidant of me, but his lips refused
+to utter the words.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Usually he responded eagerly to Zura's gay coaxings
+to friendship and gladly shared her blithesome
+fun; but sometimes there was a look in his eyes
+such as a youthful prisoner might have when he
+knew that for life he is barred from blue skies.
+As time went on less often appeared the playful
+curve of his lips, the crinkly smile in the corners
+of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once in the moonlight I saw him stretch out his
+hand as if to touch Zura's glistening hair. Some
+memory smote him. He drew back sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At times I was sure that he was purposely
+avoiding her. Yet the thought seemed foolish. If
+ever there was a goodly sight for eyes glad or sad
+it was the incarnation of joyous girlhood whose
+name was Zura Wingate.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Unable to solve the puzzle, I could only give my
+unstinted attention to the boy and girl. If only
+our armor of love could shield the beloved!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I sent the invitation for the Thanksgiving celebration,
+and was much relieved by the answer
+that Mr. Hanaford would join us that evening.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The dinner was a great success. For all of us
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>it was full of good cheer. Jane in her happiness
+looked years younger. She was in high glee.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do you know, my friends in the Quarters are
+so happy over the hospital," she exclaimed. "I
+was obliged to ask the Sake Ya to sell only one little
+bottle of wine to each man. He promised and
+said he would dilute it at that. Wasn't it good of
+him to do it? Oh! it's beautiful how big difficulties
+are melting away&mdash;just like fax in the wire!"
+She joined in the laugh at her expense.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura urged, "Lady Jinny, please get you a pair
+of crutches for that limp in your tongue."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Better than that, child. First operation in the
+hospital will be to take the kinks out of my foolish,
+twisted words."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Afterwards in the sitting-room Zura went through
+her pretty little ceremony of making after-dinner
+coffee and serving it in some rare old Kutani cups.
+The wonderful decoration of the frail china led her
+to talk of the many phases of Japan and its life that
+appealed to the artist. Of the lights and shadows
+on land and sea the effects of the mists and the
+combination of color that defied mere paint.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I'd never heard Zura talk so well nor so enthusiastically
+on a sensible subject. For a moment
+I had a hope that her love for the beauty of the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>country would overcome her antagonism to her
+mother's people. I was quickly undeceived.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then, as if fearful that praise for the glories of
+old Nippon might make her seem forgetful of the
+festal day of her own land, she flashed out, "But
+please don't anybody forget that I am an American
+to the marrow-bone." She turned to Page. "Did
+you come direct from America to Japan?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The usual miserable flush of confusion covered
+the boy's face. "Well&mdash;you see, I never keep
+track of dates; guess I'm too&mdash;maybe I've traveled
+a bit too much to count days&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Either ignoring Page's evasion or not seeing it,
+Zura continued, "But you love the blessed old country,
+don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"With all my heart," he answered fervently.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Then why do you stay out here? A man can
+go where he pleases."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I have my work on hand and riches in mind.
+You know the old saw about a rolling stone?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Indeed I do. It gathers no moss. Neither
+does it collect burrs in gray whiskers and hayseed
+in long hair. I tell you," she half-whispered, leaning
+towards him confidentially, "Let's you and I
+kidnap Jane and Ursula and emigrate to 'Dixie
+Land, the land of cotton, where fun and life are
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>easily gotten.' Are you with me?" she audaciously
+challenged.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page's face matched the white flowers near him.
+With a lightness, all assumed, he answered, "All
+right; but wait till I make a fortune&mdash;teaching."
+He arose, saying he would go out on the balcony
+for a smoke.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Soon after that Jane left, saying she must write
+many letters of thanks.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was alone with Zura. The night being mild
+for the time of year, she proposed that we stroll
+in the garden. To her this lovely spot was something
+new and beautiful. To me it was something
+old and tender, but the charm, the spell it wove
+around us both was the same. It lay in perfect
+peace, kissed to silence and tender mystery by the
+splendor of the great, red, autumn moon. More
+beautiful now, the legend said, because the gods
+gathered all the brilliant coloring from the dying
+foliage and gave it to the pale moon lady for safe
+keeping.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"And look," exclaimed Zura, as we walked beside
+the waters which gave back the unclouded
+glory, "if the shining dame isn't using our lake
+for a looking-glass. You know, Ursula, this is
+the only night in the year the moon wears a hat.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>It's made from the scent of the flowers. Doesn't
+that halo around her look like a chapeau?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We strolled along, and to Zura's pleadings I answered
+with ghost legends and myths from a full
+store gathered through long, lonely years. Charmed
+by the magic of the night and the wonder of the
+garden, we lingered long.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We paused in the ghostly half-light of the tall
+bamboo where the moonlight trickled through, to
+listen to the song of the Mysterious Bird of the
+Spirit Land. The bird is seldom seen alive, but if
+separated from its mate, at once it begins the search
+by a soft appealing call. If absence is prolonged
+the call increases to heart-breaking moaning, till
+from exhaustion the bird droops head downward
+and dies from grief.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;That night the mate was surely lost. The lonely
+feathered thing made us shiver with the weirdness
+of its sad notes.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Suddenly we remembered the lateness of the
+hour and our guest. We took a short cut across
+the soft grass toward the house.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;We turned sharply around a clump of bamboo
+and halted. A few steps before us was Page Hanaford.
+Seated on the edge of an old stone lantern,
+head in hands, out of the bitterness of some agony
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>we heard him cry, "God in Heaven! <i>How</i> can I
+tell her!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura and I clutched hands and crept away to the
+house. Even then we did not dare to look each
+other in the face.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Soon after Page came in. He gave no sign of
+his recent storm, but said good-night to me and,
+looking down at Zura, he held out his hand without
+speaking.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Now that I could see the girl's face I could hardly
+believe she was the same being. With flushed
+cheeks and downcast eyes she stood in wondering
+silence, as if in stumbling upon a secret place in a
+man's soul, she had fallen upon undiscovered regions
+in her own.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I returned from locking the door after
+Page, Zura had gone to her room.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the night I remembered that not once had Page
+referred to his absence from the city.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura, Jane and I had not often discussed young
+Hanaford. When we did, it was how we could
+give him pleasure rather than the probable cause
+of his spells of dejection. But when I found Jane
+alone the next day and told her what we had seen
+in the gardens, omitting what we'd heard, she had
+an explanation for the whole affair.</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"><a href="images/img199.jpg">
+<img src="images/img199th.jpg" width="399" height="316" alt="&quot;God in Heaven. How can I tell her!&quot;" title="&quot;God in Heaven. How can I tell her!&quot;" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;God in Heaven. How can I tell her!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
+ "It is perfectly plain, Miss Jenkins. Page has
+been disappointed in love. I know the signs," Jane
+said with a little sigh, brightening as she went on,
+"but that doesn't kill, just hurts, and makes people
+moody. I am going to tell Page I know his secret.
+I know, too, a recipe that will soon heal wounds
+like his. We have it right here in the house."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! Jane Gray," I said, exasperated, "do cultivate
+a little common sense. Now you run along
+and make us some beaten biscuit for supper by that
+recipe that you know is infallible, and do not add
+to Page's burden whatever it is, by trying your sentimental
+remedies on him."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT THE SETTING SUN REVEALED</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I heard Zura softly singing as she went about
+her work. She sang more and talked less in
+the two weeks that followed our Thanksgiving celebration
+than ever before since I had known her.
+In that time we had not seen Page. In our one
+talk of what we had seen in the garden Zura simply
+remarked that she supposed what we heard Page
+say meant he dreaded to tell somebody of the loss
+of his fortune and family. She lightly scoffed at
+my suggestion of anything more serious. I prayed
+that might be true, but why his confusion and evasion?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Thoughts of the boy and his secret would have
+weighed heavily upon me had it not been for my
+joy in seeing day by day the increasing sweetness
+and graciousness of my adopted child. Her gentleness
+of manner and speech often caused me to
+wonder if she could be the same untamed hoyden
+of some months ago. Every day I prided myself
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>on my quick understanding of girls, also of the way
+to rear them. It made me more than happy to see
+what I was accomplishing with Jane's help. While
+it was no royal road to peace and happiness which
+we traveled, for Zura's impatience with the Orient
+and its ways, her rebellion against the stigma laid
+upon Eurasians, brought the shadows upon many
+a day's sunshine, yet, as the time slipped by, there
+seemed to be a growing contentment. There were
+fewer references made to a definite return to America.
+In the prospect of her permanent stay with
+me, I found great joy.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her high spirits found expression in her work.
+Her love of excitement fed on encounters with Ishi
+and in teasing Jane.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One afternoon she locked the old gardener up in
+a tea-house till he apologized for some disrespect.
+She detained him till intense fear of the coming
+darkness induced him to submit.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;One night Jane brought home a long bundle.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"A new dress, Saint Jinny?" asked Zura.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, honey, I haven't had a store dress in ten
+years. One somebody is through with becomes me
+quite well. These are the models for my hospital."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You mean plans, don't you? You wouldn't be
+caught bringing home a model. Models are ladies
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>who would be overcome by the superfluous drapery
+of a dress. My daddy used them for pictures in
+his studio. Sit right down here by the fire, Miss
+Jaygray, and while you dissipate in hot beef tea,
+I'll give you a lesson on models."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura painted so graphically a word picture of her
+father's studio it made me laugh, for I knew well
+enough that such clotheless creatures would not be
+permitted outside the Cannibal islands. The sheriff
+would take them up.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As Zura continued her wild exaggerations a look
+of horror covered Miss Gray's face.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh! Zury!" she cried. "Surely those ladies
+had on part of a dress."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No! angel child, not even a symptom. Daddy
+didn't want to paint their clothes. He wanted to
+copy the curves that grew on the people."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane covered her eyes and spoke in a voice filled
+with trouble.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Dearie! I've lived in America a long time but
+I didn't know there were people like that! I'm
+really afraid they aren't selling their souls for the
+highest price."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Daddy wasn't dealing in souls, but he did pay
+a pretty high price for lines."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane, unsatisfied, asked why her father couldn't
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>use statues for his model and Zura seeing how
+troubled her friend was for the souls of the undressed,
+asked with eager sympathy to be allowed
+to see the plans for the soon-to-be built hospital.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The ground for the building had been purchased
+and work was well on the way. Shortly the roof-raising
+ceremony would take place. In this part
+of the country it is the most important event in
+building. Jane said that we were all expected to
+attend these exercises, even if we were so afraid
+of the criminal quarters that we had to take our
+hearts in our hands to enter.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Brown head and gray were bent together over
+blueprints and long columns of figures. Both maid
+and woman were frail and delicate tools to be used
+in the up-building of wrecked lives. Yet by the
+skill of the Master Mechanic these instruments were
+not only working wonders in other lives, but also
+something very beautiful in their own.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura took untiring interest in all Jane's plans
+for the after-festivities of the occasion. Most of
+their evenings were spent in arranging programs. I
+took no part. My hands were full of my own work
+and, while they talked, I paused to listen and was
+delighted not only in the transformation of Zura,
+but also in my own enlarged understanding of her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;I loved all young things, and youth itself, but I
+had never been near them before. With tender interest
+I watched every mood of Zura's, passing from
+an untamed child to a lovely girl. Sometimes her
+bounding spirits seemed overlaid by a soft enchantment.
+She would sit chin in palm, dark, luminous
+eyes gazing out into space as if she saw some wonderful
+picture. I suppose most girls do this. I
+never had time, but I made it possible for Zura to
+have her dreams. She should have all that I had
+missed, if I could give it to her&mdash;even a lover in
+years to come. I did not share these thoughts with
+Jane, for it is plain human to be irritated when we
+see our weaknesses reflected in another, and encouragement
+was the last thing Jane's sentimental
+soul needed. I failed to make out what had come
+over my companion these days; she would fasten
+her eyes on Zura and smile knowingly, as if telling
+herself a happy secret, sighing softly the while.
+And poetry! We ate, lived and slept to the swing
+of some love ditty.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once I found Zura in a mood of gentle brooding.
+I suggested to her that, as the year was drawing to
+a close, it would be wise to start the new one with
+a clean bill of conscience. Did she not think it
+would be well for her to write to her grandfather
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>and tell him she could see now that she had made
+it most difficult for him? That while she didn't
+want to be taken back she would like to be friends
+with him?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At once she was alert, but not aggressively so as
+in the past. "Ursula, I'll do it if you insist; but
+it wouldn't be honest and I couldn't be polite. I
+do not want to be friends with that old man who
+labels everybody evil that doesn't think as he does.
+We'd never think alike in a thousand years.
+What's the use of poking up a tiger when he's
+quiet?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I persuaded.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She evaded by saying at last: "Well, some time&mdash;maybe.
+I have too much on my mind now."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What, Zura?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, my future&mdash;and a few other things."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San had never honored me with a
+visit since his granddaughter had been an inmate
+of my house. Whenever a business conference was
+necessary, I was requested, by mail, to "assemble"
+in the audience chamber of the Normal School.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The man was beginning to look old and broken
+but he still faithfully carried out his many duties
+of office and religion.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;He never retreated one inch in his fight against
+all innovations that would make the country the
+less Japanese or his faith less Buddhistic. More
+often than not he stood alone and faced the bitter
+opposition of the progressives. In no one thing
+did he so prove his unconquerable spirit and his
+great ideals for his country as the patience with
+which he endured the ridicule of his opponents.
+For to a man of the proud and sensitive East, shot
+and shell are far easier to face than ridicule.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;On a certain afternoon I had gone to meet with
+a committee to discuss a question pertaining to a
+school regulation, by which the girl students of
+the city schools would be granted liberty in dress
+and conduct more equal with the boys. Of course
+Kishimoto San stood firm against so radical a measure.
+Another member of the committee asked him
+if he did not believe in progress. The unbending
+old man answered sternly:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Progress&mdash;yes. But a progress based on the
+traditions of our august ancestors, not a progress
+founded on Western principle, which, if adopted by
+us unmodified, means that we, with our legions of
+years behind us, our forefathers descended from
+the gods, as they were, will be neither wholly East
+nor West but a something as distorted as a dragon's
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>body with the heads and wings of an eagle. Progress!
+Have not our misconceptions of progress
+cost us countless lives and sickening humiliations?
+Has not the breaking of traditions threatened the
+very foundations of our homes? Small wonder
+the foreign nations offer careless insult when we
+stoop to make monkeys of ourselves and adopt customs
+and assume a civilization that can no more
+be grafted on to our nation than cabbage can be
+grown on plum trees. Take what is needful to
+strengthen and uplift. Make the highest and best
+of any land your own standard and live thereby.
+But remember, in long years ago the divine gods
+created you Japanese, and to the end of eternity,
+struggle as you may, as such you cannot escape your
+destiny!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As he finished his impassioned speech, a ray of
+sun fell upon his face, lifted in stern warning to
+his opponents. He was like a figure of the Past
+demanding reverence and a hearing from the Present.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For the time he won his point and I was glad,
+for it was Kishimoto San's last public speech. Soon
+after he was stricken with a lingering illness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In previous talks he had neither asked after his
+granddaughter nor referred to her. But this after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>noon,
+taking advantage of his look of half-pleasure
+caused by the victory he had won single handed, I
+took occasion, when offering congratulations, to
+give him every opportunity to inquire as to Zura
+and her progress. I was very proud of what I
+had done with the girl, of the change her affection
+for Jane and me had accomplished.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Naturally I was anxious to exhibit my handiwork.
+As well tempt a mountain lion to inspect
+a piece of beautiful tapestry in the process of weaving.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;However tactfully I led up to the subject he
+walked around it without touching it. To him she
+was not. Reconciliation was afar off. I said
+good-by and left. It was this and the speech I
+had heard in the afternoon that occupied my mind
+as I wended my way home.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course the country must go forward; but it
+was a pity that, even if progress were not compatible
+with tradition, it could not be tempered with beauty.
+Why must the youth of the land adopt those hideous
+imitations of foreign clothes? The flower-like
+children wear on their heads the grotesque combinations
+of muslin and chicken feathers they called
+hats? There are miles of ancient moats around the
+city, filled with lotus, the great pink-and-white blos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>soms
+giving joy to the eye as its roots gave food
+for the body. Slowly these stretches of loveliness
+were being turned into dreary levels of sand for
+the roadbed of a trolley. Even now the quiet of
+the city was broken by the clang of the street-car
+gong. I was taking my first ride that day.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With Kishimoto San's plea for progress of the
+right kind still ringing in my ears, my eyes fell
+upon some of the rules for the conduct of the passengers,
+printed in large type, and hung upon the
+front door of the car:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Please do not stick your knees or your elbows
+out of the windows."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Fat people must ride on the platform."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Soiled coolies must take a bath before entering."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;An advertisement in English emphasized the talk
+of the afternoon: "Invaluable most fragrant and
+nice pills, especially for sudden illness. For refreshing
+drooping minds and regulating disordered
+spirits, whooping cough and helping reconvalescents
+to progress."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The force of Kishimoto's appeal was strong upon
+me.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I alighted at my street and began the climb that
+led to my house. Halfway up a picture-book tea-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>house
+offered hospitality; in its miniature garden
+I paused to rest and faced the sea in all its evening
+beauty. Happily the glory of the skies and the
+tender loveliness of the hills still belonged to their
+Maker, untouched by commercialism.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The golden track of the setting sun streamed
+across the mountain tops and turned to fiery red a
+feathery shock of distant clouds. High and clear
+came the note of a wild goose as he called to his
+mate on their homeward flight. In the city below
+a thousand lights danced and beckoned through the
+soft velvet shadows of coming night. There fluttered
+up to me many sounds&mdash;a temple bell, the
+happy call of children at play, cheerful echoes of
+home-like content, the gentle gaiety of simple life.
+It was for these, the foundations of the Empire,
+that Kishimoto San feared ruin, with the coming
+of too sudden a transition.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But I forgot the man and his woes. The spell
+of heavenly peace that spread upon land and sea
+fell like a benediction.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It crept into my heart and filled me with thankfulness
+that I had known this land and its people
+and for all the blessings that had fallen to me in
+the coming of Zura Wingate. Gratitude for my
+full understanding of her was deep. If only the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>shadows could be cleared away from the boy I
+loved, life would be complete.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Exalted by the beauty of the evening, and by
+my spiritual communings, I entered my house and
+faced the door of the study. It was ajar. Silhouetted
+against the golden light, which had so
+filled me with joy and peace, stood two figures.
+And the man held the hands of the girl against his
+breast, and looked down into her glad eyes as a
+soul in the balance must look into Paradise.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was Page Hanaford and Zura Wingate!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As quietly as possible I went around another way
+and dropped into the first handy chair. The truth
+was as bare as a model. The force of it came to
+me like a blow between the eyes. Long ago, because
+of chilblains, I had adopted felt shoes. In
+that second of time I stood at the door the noiseless
+footgear cured me of all the egotism I ever
+possessed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Now I knew by what magic the transformation
+had been wrought in Zura. And the castle of
+dreams, built on my supposed understanding of
+youth and the way it grew, was swept away
+by a single breath from the young god of love.
+What a silly old jay bird I had been! Was that
+what Jane Gray had been smiling to herself
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>about? I felt like shaking her for seeing it before
+I did.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;At dinner Jane was the only one of the three
+of us without an impediment in her silence. I was
+glad when the meal was over and we went to the
+study.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura buried herself in a deep windowseat, to
+watch the lights on the water, she said. When
+there was not another glimmer to be seen, from
+the shadows came a voice with a soft little tremble
+in it, or possibly I had grown suddenly sensitive to
+trembles: "Ursula, Mr. Hanaford was here this
+afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Now, thought I, it's coming. Steadying myself
+I asked: "Was he? What did he have to say?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh-h!"&mdash;indifferently&mdash;"nothing much. He
+brought back an armful of books."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;An armful of books&mdash;aye, and his heart full of
+love! How dared he speak of it with his life
+wrapped in the dark shadows of some secret?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Talk to me of progress! That day I could have
+raced neck-and-neck with a shooting star!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2>
+
+<h3>PINKEY CHALMERS CALLS AGAIN</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Never having been within hailing distance
+before of the processes of love and proceedings
+of courtship there were no signposts in my
+experience to guide me as to what should be my
+next step, if it were mine to take. I had been too
+busy a woman to indulge in many novels, but in the
+few I had read the hero lost no time in saying,
+"Will you?" and at once somebody began to practise
+the wedding march. I suppose the fashion in
+lovemaking changes as much as the styles; nothing
+I ever thought or dreamed on the subject seemed
+to fit the case in hand.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I waited for Zura to tell me, but she didn't.
+She only sang the more as she went about her work,
+doubling her efforts in making sweet the home and
+herself. She seemed to find fresh joy in every
+hour.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Any thoughts I'd cherished that young Hanaford
+would come at once, clear up all the confusion
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>about himself, frankly declare his love for Zura
+and be happy forever afterward died from lack
+of nourishment.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Only my deep affection for the boy restrained
+my anger at his silence. The love and sympathy
+which bolstered up my faith in him were reinforced
+by his gentle breeding and high mental quality; but
+circumstances forced me reluctantly to admit that
+the story he told when he first came was not true.
+Page Hanaford was not only under a shadow, but
+also was undoubtedly seeking to conceal his whereabouts.
+And why? The question sat on the foot
+of my bed at night and made faces at me, scrawled
+itself all over my work and met me around every
+corner.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was next to impossible to connect him with
+dishonesty or baseness when looking into his face,
+or hearing him talk. But why didn't he speak out,
+and why hide his talents in this obscure place? He
+was gifted. His classes had increased to large
+numbers, and so excellent were his methods his
+fame had gone abroad. The Department of Education
+had offered him a lucrative position as teacher
+in the Higher Normal College in a neighboring city.
+But, instead of snatching at this good fortune, he
+asked for time to consider.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;He came frequently to talk it over with me; at
+least that's what he said he came for. The law
+required the applicant for such a position to answer
+questions concerning himself and all his ancestors.
+In my talks with Page about this law I
+emphasized every detail of the intimate questions
+that would be put to him. I tried to impress upon
+him the necessity of having either a clean record,
+or a very clever tongue when he went before the
+judgment seat of the Japanese authorities. I hoped
+my seriousness would bring about a speedy explanation,
+denial, declaration&mdash;anything, so it came
+quickly. The truth is I don't believe he ever heard
+a word of what I said on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If Zura was out of the room, his eyes were glued
+to the door watching for it to open. If she were
+present, his eyes would be fixed on her face. If I
+made an excuse to leave the room, Page made another
+to keep me, as if he feared the thing he most
+desired. What did it all mean? If Page Hanaford
+could not explain himself honorably, what right
+had he to look at the girl with his heart in his eyes?
+If no explanation could be given, what right had
+Zura Wingate to grow prettier and happier every
+day?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I had always believed that love was as simple
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>and straightforward as finding the end of a blind
+alley. There was good reason for me to change
+my belief as the days passed and nothing was said
+on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course, I could have hauled the two up before
+me, like children, and told them what I had
+seen and was still seeing; but I dreaded to force
+the man's secret and I had to acknowledge that,
+for the time, I was no more equal to guiding this
+thing called "love" than I was to instructing birds
+to build a nest.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane was not a bit of help to me. Refusing to
+discuss anything except the sentimental side of the
+affair, she repeated verse till I was almost persuaded
+this poetical streak was a disease rather than
+a habit. Between stanzas she proffered food and
+drink to Page, in quantities sufficient to end quickly
+both man and mystery, had he accepted. Her attitude
+to Zura was one of perfect understanding
+and entire sympathy. Every time she looked
+at the girl, she sighed and went off into more
+poetry.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Troubled thoughts stormed my brain as hailstones
+pelt a tin roof. I prayed for wisdom as
+I had never prayed for happiness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The announcement one day that Mr. Tom Chal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>mers
+had called caused no sudden rise in my
+spirits, but a second card, bearing the name of Mrs.
+Tom, somewhat relieved my mind. Their coming
+offered a diversion and proved Pinkey of a forgiving
+spirit.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;They were on their wedding journey, he told us
+after I had summoned Zura. Greetings and congratulations
+were soon over. While the steamer
+was coaling in a near-by port he thought he would
+just run over in jinrikishas to say "Hello!" and
+show Mrs. Chalmers to us. Yankee Doodle with
+a hat full of feathers could not have been more
+proud.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;What there was of Mrs. Pinkey to exhibit was
+indeed a show. Her youthful prettiness belonged
+more to the schoolroom period than wifehood; and
+Heaven forbid that the clothes she wore should be
+typical of my country; there was not enough material
+in her skirt to make me a comfortable pair
+of sleeves! I marveled how, in so limited a space,
+she advanced one limb before the other.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Later Zura explained the process to me: "It's
+a matter of politeness, Ursula. One knee says to
+the other, 'You let me pass this time, and I'll step
+aside when your turn comes.'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Even this courtesy had failed to prevent a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>catastrophe; one seam of her dress was ripped for a
+foot above the ankle. The coat of this remarkable
+costume was all back and no front, and from the
+rear edge of her hat floated a wonderful feather
+like a flag from the stern of a gunboat.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I could see by her face how funny she thought
+my clothes. I hoped she did not realize how near
+to scandalous her outfit seemed to me. Usually the
+point of view depends on which side of the ocean
+one is when delivering judgment.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Pinkey was as eloquent on the subject of his
+wedding as if he had been the only Adam who
+ever marched down a church aisle. He was most
+joyful at the prospect of showing to his bride all
+the curiosities and shortcomings of the East. He
+felt he had encompassed wide and intimate knowledge
+of it in his two or three trips. I asked Mrs.
+Chalmers how she liked Japan.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She took her adoring eyes off her newly-acquired
+husband long enough to answer: "It is lovely.
+Wonderful little people&mdash;so progressive and clean.
+It's too bad they are so dishonest; of course you
+must have lost a lot of money."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, I can't say that I have. I've been in the
+country thirty years and never lost a 'rin' except
+when my pocket was torn. Come to think of it,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>if histories, travelers and police records state facts,
+dishonesty is not peculiar to the Orient."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The little bride answered: "I don't know about
+that; but the Japanese must be awfully tricky, for
+Pinkey says so and the captain of the ship, who
+hates every inhabitant of the Empire, said the banks
+had to employ Chinese clerks."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Why waste words? What were real facts, or
+the experience of a lifetime against such unimpeachable
+authority as Mr. Pinkey Chalmers and the
+captain of a Pacific steamer! Why condemn the
+little bride, for after all she was human. Nationally
+and individually, the tighter we hug our own
+sins and hide their faces, the more clearly we can
+see the distorted features of our neighbor's weakness.
+There was more of pity than anger due a
+person who, ignoring all the beauty in the treasure
+house before her, chose as a souvenir a warped and
+very ancient skeleton of a truth and found the same
+pleasure in dangling it, that a child would in exhibiting
+a newly-extracted tooth.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr. Chalmers had been talking to Zura, but when
+he caught the word "bank" he included the entire
+company in his conversation. "Talking banks, are
+you? Well that is a pretty sore subject with me.
+Just lost my whole fortune in a bank. Had it hap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>pened
+before the wedding I'd have been obliged
+to put the soft pedals on the merry marriage bells.
+Guess you heard about the million-dollar robbery of
+the Chicago Bank; biggest pile any one fellow
+ever got away with. And that's the wonder: he
+got clean away, simply faded into nothing. It happened
+months ago and not a trace of him since.
+Detectives everywhere are on the keen jump; big
+reward hung up. He's being gay somewhere with
+seventy-five dollars of my good money."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Tea was served and we indulged in much small
+talk, but I was not sorry when Pinkey said he
+"must be moving along" to the steamer. He
+charged us to wireless him, if we saw a strange man
+standing around with a bushel of gold concealed
+about his person. It was sure to be the missing
+cashier. "By-the-way," he asked, pausing at the
+door, "where is that chap I met when I was here
+before, who took such an interest in my business?
+Maybe he is among those absent wanted ones.
+What was he doing here anyhow?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura answered with what I thought unnecessary
+color that Mr. Hanaford was in the city, and was
+soon to be promoted to a very high position in the
+educational world.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Pinkey looked into her face and, turning, gave
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>me a violent wink. "Oho! Now I'm getting
+wise." At the same time humming a strain supposed
+to be from a wedding march.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Oh, but I wished I could slap him! Think of his
+seeing in a wink what I hadn't seen in months!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My visitors said good-by and went their happy
+way, but in the story of the missing cashier Mr.
+Chalmers left behind a suggestion that was as hateful
+as it was painful and haunting.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page spent that evening with us. He was lighter
+of heart than I had ever seen him, more at ease and
+entertaining, and as far removed from crime as
+courage is from cowardice.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My heart ached as I looked at him, for I longed
+for his happiness as I yearned to know he was
+clean of soul.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If some cruel mistake had darkened his life, why
+did he not say so and let us, his friends, help him
+forget? Why not start anew with love as a guide?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was another Page we were seeing that night.
+Was it the magic of love that made him hopeful,
+almost gay? Or was it for the moment he was
+permitted one more joyous flight in the blue skies
+of freedom before he was finally caught in the snare
+of the shadow?</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;For the time he sunned his soul in the garden of
+friendship and love and gave us, not only glimpses
+of other worlds, but disclosed another side of himself.
+If the new man I was seeing in Page Hanaford
+captivated me the revelation of the undiscovered
+woman in Zura mystified and amazed me. Till
+now her every characteristic was so distinctly of
+her father's race, everything about her so essentially
+Western, that I was beginning to think she
+had tricked a favorite law of Nature and defied
+maternal influence.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As much as she loved pretty clothes, and regardless
+of the pressure brought to bear by her grandfather,
+she had refused to wear the native garb,
+preferring the shabby garments she brought with
+her from America. I had never thought of her
+being Japanese; but that evening, when Page was
+announced and Zura walked into the room clothed
+in kimono and obi, my eyes were astonished with as
+fair a daughter of old Nippon as ever pompadoured
+her hair or wore sandals on her feet.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She was like a new creature to me. Her daring
+and sparkling vivacity were tempered by a tranquil
+charm, as if a slumbering something, wholly of the
+East had suddenly awakened and claimed her.
+With eyes half lowered she responded with easy
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>familiarity to Page's talk of other lands. She said
+her father had traveled far and had spent many of
+their long winter evenings in spinning yarns of
+foreign countries for her enjoyment. She'd been
+brought up more regularly on pictures than she had
+food. Once they had copies of all the great paintings.
+Mother sold the last one to get money to pay
+the passage to come to Japan.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;And so they talked. Jane, snug in her chair,
+was content to listen, and I, who had been blind,
+was now dumb with the startling surprises that the
+game of life being played before me revealed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The girl glowed as softly bright as a firefly and
+the light lured the man to happy forgetfulness.
+For once he let love have full sway. He neither
+sought to conceal what he felt, nor to stem the
+tide which was fast sweeping him&mdash;he knew not
+nor cared not whither so long as his eyes might
+rest upon the dearness of Zura's face, as with
+folded feet and hands she sat on a low cushion,
+the dull red fire reflecting its glory in the gold embroidery
+of her gown.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There had been a long silence. Then Zura recalled
+the event of the day: "Oh, Mr. Hanaford,
+by the way. You remember Pinkey Chalmers,
+don't you&mdash;the nice boy you and Ursula enter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>tained
+so beautifully in the garden when he called
+the last time? He was here again to-day; had his
+bride with him. Ursula will tell you what she
+looked like. I do wish you had been here. Mr.
+Chalmers told us the most exciting news about a
+Chicago cashier who skipped away with a million
+dollars and hid both himself and the money&mdash;nobody
+knows where. They think he is out this
+way and I think I am going to find him."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the passing of one second the happiness in
+Page Hanaford's face withered. Like a mask fear
+covered it. He thrust his strained body forward
+and with shaking hand grasped the shoulder of the
+girl. "Hid it! Tell me, in heaven's name, tell
+me where could a man hide a million dollars?"
+His voice was tense to the breaking point. He
+searched the girl's face as if all eternity depended
+upon her reply.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before she could make it he sank back in his
+chair, pitifully white and limp. He begged for
+air. We opened the window. Zura ran for water.
+While I bathed his face he said, looking at
+Zura: "I beg your pardon. I'm not at all well,
+but I didn't mean to startle you."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I'm not startled," she answered, and lightly
+added: "but I was just wondering why anybody
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>would care so much where a million old dollars were
+hid. I know a hundred things I'd rather find."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The man laid his hand on that of the girl as it
+rested on the arm of the chair. "Name one,
+Zura."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Love." And on her face the high lights were
+softened to compassion and tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page took his hand from hers and covered his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There I stood waiting to put another cold cloth
+on the boy's head. Neither one of them knew I
+was on earth. I hardly knew it myself. For the
+first time in my life I was seeing the real thing and
+the wonder of it almost petrified me.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;What else might have happened is an untold
+tale. Jane saved the situation. I had not noticed
+her absence. She now entered, carrying a tray
+well filled with crackers and a beverage which she
+placed before Page. "Honey, I don't believe in
+any of those spirit-rising liquors even when you
+faint, but I made this jape gruice right off our own
+vine and fig tree and I know it's pure and innocent.
+Yes, Zura, grape juice is what I said. Page can
+drink every gallon I have if he wants it, and I'll
+toast cheese and crackers for him all night."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The twist in Jane Gray's tongue might lead to
+laughter, but her heart never missed the road to
+thoughtful kindness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Very soon Page said he felt much better and
+would get home and to bed. When he took his
+coat and hat from the hall he looked so weak, so
+near to illness, I begged him to stay and let us care
+for him. He gently refused, saying he would be
+all right in the morning. I followed him to the
+gate. He turned to say good-night.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I put my hands on his shoulders and with all the
+affection at my command I invited his confidence.
+"What is it, son? I'm an old woman, but maybe
+I can help you. Let me try."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He lifted his hands to mine and his grasp was
+painful. The dim light from the old bronze lantern
+reflected the tears in his eyes as he answered:
+"Help me? You have in a thousand ways. I'll
+soon be all right. I'm just a little over-worked.
+Haven't slept much lately. Need rest."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then leaning near with sudden tenderness:
+"Heaven bless you, dear woman. You have been
+as good to me as my own mother. Some day&mdash;perhaps.
+Good-night. Don't worry, Miss Jenkins."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Why didn't he throw me over into a bramble
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>patch and tell me not to get scratched? I just
+leaned my old head up against the gate and cried.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I returned to the house by a rear door, for Jane
+was in the living-room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>ENTER KOBU, THE DETECTIVE</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The compensation of the morning's belated
+brightness came in the golden glory with
+which it flooded the world, so warm it melted the
+hoar frost jewels on tree and shrub, so tender the
+drooping roses lifted their pink heads and blushed
+anew. It was the kind of a morning one knew
+that something was waiting just ahead. It required
+no feat of intellect for me to know that a great
+many somethings awaited my little household.
+Whenever I arose in the morning feeling sentimental,
+something was sure to happen. The afternoon
+of this day was the appointed time for the
+"roof-raising festival" of Jane's hospital. Three
+o'clock was the hour set to begin the ceremonies,
+but early morning found Jane and Zura as busy
+collecting books, bundles and a folding baby-organ,
+as if moving day had fallen upon the household.
+Neither one of my companions seemed depressed
+by the happenings of the night before, or else they
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>were determined that every other thought should
+be put aside till the roof was safely over the dream
+of Jane's life. Jinrickishas piled high with baskets
+of refreshments and decorations moved gaily down
+the street. Jane and Zura, laughing like two
+schoolgirls and as irrepressible, headed the little
+procession.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I waved them good luck and went back to my
+work and my thoughts. I was interrupted by a
+note that came from Page in answer to one of mine,
+saying a slight fever would prevent his accepting
+the invitation to go with me to the exercises in the
+afternoon, but he hoped to see us at the house later
+in the evening. Of course he meant us in general,
+Zura particularly, and it might be fever or it might
+be other things that kept him away from Jane's
+tea party. I was going to know in either case as
+soon as I could get Page Hanaford by himself.
+Right or wrong I would help him all I could, but
+know I must and would. I simply could not live
+through another day of anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;If Page told me his trouble, there was no reason
+why it would fade away, and my anxiety cease
+to be, but having made up my mind to act definitely,
+my spirits rose like a clay pigeon released by a
+spring.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;That afternoon, at the time appointed for the
+ceremony, when I turned from Flying Sparrow
+Street into Tube Rose Lane a strange sight met
+my eyes. It was clean. For once in the history
+of the Quarter poverty and crime had taken a bath
+and were indulging in an open holiday. It had
+gone still farther. From the lowliest hut of straw
+and plaster to the little better house of the chief
+criminal, cheap, but very gay decorations fluttered
+in honor of the coming hospital. The people stood
+about in small groups. The many kimonos, well
+patched in varied colors, lent a touch of brilliancy
+to the sordid alleyway, haunted with ghosts of men
+and women, dead to all things spiritual.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Here and there policemen strolled, always in
+pairs. Whenever they drew near, and until they
+were past, the talking groups fell silent, and before
+an open door, or window a blank white screen was
+softly shifted. This coming from cover by the
+inhabitants and premeditatedly giving a visible sign
+of their existence was a supreme tribute to the
+woman who had lived among them successfully,
+because hers was the courage of the sanctified, her
+bravery that of love.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The day sparkled with winter's bright beauty.
+The sun had wooed an ancient plum tree into blos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>soming
+long before its time. It spread its dainty
+flowers on the soft straw bed of an old gray roof.
+A playful wind caught up the petals, sending the
+white blossoms flying across the heads of the unjust
+into the unclean ditches where they covered stagnation
+with a frail loveliness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For the time at least degradation hid its face.
+Though poverty and sin were abroad, peace and
+good will might have been their next-door neighbors
+had it not been for a certain quality in the
+atmosphere, invisible but powerful, which caused
+a feeling that behind it all, there was an evil something
+that sneered alike at life and beauty; that had
+for its motto lust and greed, and mercilessly demanded
+as tribute the soul of every inhabitant.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Collected crime at bay was an unyielding force
+not easily reckoned with. The fact that one small
+woman, with only faith to back her, was battling
+against it single-handed, sent Jane Gray so high
+up in my estimation that I could barely see her as
+she floated in the clouds.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I saw my companion in an entirely new light as
+I joined the throngs gathered about the space where
+the raising of the roof was taking place. The
+ceremony here was brief. With countless ropes
+tied to the joined roof as it lay on the ground, the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>eager coolies stood ready for the signal to pull
+aloft the structure and guide it to the posts placed
+ready to receive it.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane walked to the cleared center and stood waiting
+to speak. There was instant silence when the
+crowd saw her. With simple words she thanked
+the workmen for their interest and the many half-days'
+labor they had contributed, then she raised
+her hand, and with great shouting and cheering the
+roof of Jane's long-dreamed-of refuge for sinners,
+sick and hopeless, was safely hoisted to its place.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;After this everybody was entitled to a holiday
+and went quickly to the tea and cake which Zura
+and her helpers had prepared and served from small
+booths. The rest of the exercises were to take
+place in the near-by house that Miss Gray had been
+using temporarily. By removing all the paper partitions
+the lower part of the house had been thrown
+into one large room. Circling the crowd of waiting
+people seated on the floor a row of cots held
+the sick and afflicted, worsted by sin and disease.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before them stood Jane, who, in the custom of
+the country, bade them welcome. A small sea of
+faces was lifted to her. Such faces!&mdash;none beautiful;
+all stamped with crime; some scarcely human,
+only physical apparitions of debased Nature.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;With shifting glances they listened to an official
+who made Jane an offer from the city to contribute
+to the support of the hospital, the pledge of
+two doctors to give their services so many hours
+a week, a contribution of milk from a rich merchant,
+and an offer from a friendly barber to give
+so many free shaves. Their eyes widened with
+wonder and suspicion. What could people mean
+by giving things and taking away the excitement
+of stealing them?</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But when the man spoke of how the officials had
+watched Jane and her work, at first with skeptical
+unbelief because they thought she would not endure
+a month, now with warmest sympathy because she
+had succeeded in keeping the Quarters freer of
+crime and disease than ever before, they forgot
+their fear and voiced their approval in much hand-clapping,
+and wise shaking of heads. They called
+for Miss Gray.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane arose and very shyly thanked the city's representative.
+Then as gently and as simply as if
+talking to wayward children, she spoke to the men
+and women before her, who bent forward with
+respectful attention while the sick ones fastened
+their weary eyes upon her.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"My people, the building of this little hospital
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>means not only the healing of your bodies, but also
+the way to cleansing your souls. Dear friends, let
+me say in this world there is nothing worth while
+but your souls. Make them clean and white. Sell
+them for the highest price. What do I mean by
+that? I mean that if it is for the sake of your
+souls, it is nothing to go hungry, cold and in rags.
+What matters the outside so long as you make your
+hearts sweet and shiny and true? All of you before
+me have gone astray. So many of you have
+wandered like lost children from the homeward
+path, and darkness came and you could not find
+the way back. Each of you was once a happy
+little child, with some place to call home and some
+one there to care when you were lost. I do not
+know why the darkness overtook you, but I know
+it did, and to-day, as before, I am a messenger to
+show you the way back. I have come to tell you
+that there is still Somebody who cares whether you
+are lost or not. There is still Some One who waits
+to guide you home. He asks you as a little child
+to take hold of His hand and He will lead you
+out of the fearful darkness. I do not ask what
+nameless deeds have made you fear the light of
+day and the eyes of men. I only know you are my
+friends, to whom I so gladly bring this message,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>and to whom I so willingly give my strength and
+my life to help you find the way back to the greatest
+Friend, who, understanding all, forgives."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A look resembling a shadow of hope came into
+their faces as she finished, and when, at a sign, Zura
+haltingly played, "I Need Thee Every Hour," and
+the people stumbled along with the music in an
+attempt to sing, the burden of the sound as well
+as the song was a cry for help.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The song finished, one part of the crowd seemed
+to fade away, the others stayed and gathered about
+Jane as if only to touch her meant something better
+than their own sin-stained lives. She moved
+among them speaking gently to this one, earnestly
+to that one. Tenderly she smoothed the covers
+over the sick bodies, leaving a smile and word of
+cheer wherever she stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Sentimentalism dropped from her like a garment
+worn for play. It was the spiritual woman only
+I was seeing, one who faced these real and awful
+facts of life with the calm, blissful assurance of
+knowing the truth, of giving her life for humanity
+because of love.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane Gray was indeed a "Daughter of Hope."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A little later, Zura&mdash;here, there, everywhere,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>like a bright autumn leaf dancing among dead
+twigs&mdash;found me conversing with a man who all
+the afternoon had kept very near to me and evidenced
+every desire to be friendly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Belovedest," exclaimed the girl gaily, her face
+glowing as she approached, "come with me quick or
+you will miss the sight of your young life. You
+may come, too, sir, if you wish," addressing my
+persistent companion, who apparently had decided
+to spend the rest of his natural life in my presence.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura led us toward the rear of the house. As
+we approached a closed room there came to us
+sounds of splashing water and happy squeals. She
+slid open the paper doors. Before us were two big
+tubs full of small children. The baths were wide
+enough for six and so deep only the cropped heads
+showed above the rims as they stood neck high.
+The lower ranks of young Japan were engaged in
+a fierce water battle of ducking and splashing and
+a trial of endurance, as to who could stay under
+longest. Their thin yellow bodies gleamed in the
+sun of the late afternoon as they romped and
+shouted.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The fun growing so boisterous, and a miniature
+war threatening, the one attendant, a very
+old woman, was outclassed. Without invitation
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>Zura rolled up her sleeves and took part in the
+fray.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Instantly there was quiet. A bath was strange
+enough to those waifs, but to be touched by a foreigner
+who looked like a princess made them half
+fear while they wondered. They soon found she
+knew their games as well as their talk; then everybody
+claimed attention at once.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She scrubbed them one by one playfully but
+firmly. She stood them in a row and put them
+through a funny little drill, commanding them to
+salute, and when they finished they were clothed
+ready to march out to the street in perfect order.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;While this was going on the man who had attached
+himself to me stood close by, seemingly much
+interested. In a detached sort of way he began
+talking in broken English. "Miss Jaygray most
+wonderful of persons," he observed. "She come
+to this place of hell and make clean spot. She like
+gray owl too. She have see of all bad things.
+But learning of such stop right in her eye; it never
+get to her memory place. All time she talk 'bout
+one, two very little good thing what are in this
+street. Low womans in here give much works also
+rin and sen for to buy water tubs for babies. Bad
+mens give work of hands, for Miss Jaygray. She
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>most wonderful of females. Maybe because she
+'Merican. Hijiyama much honored by skilful
+'Mericans: Jenkins San, Wingate San, Hanaford
+San too. He most skilful of all. You know Hanaford
+San?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Something in his voice made me look in the man's
+face. It was as expressive as biscuit dough. I
+acknowledged my acquaintance with Page.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The man resumed: "Hanaford San nice gentleman.
+I give wonder why he stay this far-away
+place. I hear some time he have much sadful. Too
+bad. Maybe he have the yearn for his country.
+If this be truthful why he not give quick return to
+'Merica?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I answered that Mr. Hanaford had lost all his
+money and his father and had come to Japan to
+begin anew. His success in teaching was reason
+enough for his remaining.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Apparently indifferent my questioner mused as
+if to himself: "Him papa have gone dead. Badful
+news. And moneys have got lost. Most big
+troublesome for young man."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I did not think it strange this queer person knew
+Page. The boy had all kinds and conditions in
+his classes, as Jane had in her Quarters. Neither
+was it unusual for a stranger to follow me around.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>When I went to a new part of the city, I was accustomed
+to being followed as if I were a part of
+a circus. But my self-attached friend's interest in
+Page's history caused me to observe him more
+closely. Except that his patched clothes were
+cleaner and he spoke English I could discover little
+difference between him and Jane's other guests.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Criminal or not his carelessly put but persistent
+questions regarding Page, his habits, how long I
+had known him, how often he came to my house
+and many other things, so annoyed me that I arose
+to find Jane and suggest going home. Failing in
+my quest I returned to find my inquisitor gone and
+Zura putting on her coat and hat.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Zura," I said, "who was that man who stuck
+to me all afternoon like furniture varnish? He
+made me talk whether I wanted to or not. Such
+questions as he asked!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do you mean that clean, raggy little man who
+looked through you, but not at you?" she questioned.
+"Star of my Sapphire, you have made a
+hit. That was Kobu, the keenest detective the flag
+of the Rising Sun ever waved over. I thought
+you knew. He has been here a week trying to pry
+information out of Lady Jinny. You should hear
+their interviews. He asks the subtlest questions,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>and Jane Gray doesn't do a thing but let her tongue
+get locomotor ataxia, and Kobu can make nothing
+of her answers. It's as good as vaudeville to hear
+them. He'd just as well leave her alone. Torture
+wouldn't make her tell what she knows, and
+she doesn't have to either! Did he ask you about
+Page? He did me too. What does it matter? I
+told him all I knew. That is most all. Why
+shouldn't I? There's nothing wrong about Page.
+He just can't get over the loss of his father, and
+there is something about old money that worries
+him."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She threw her arms around my waist.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What a happy day! Isn't Jane the realest saint
+you ever knew? You're a saint, too, Ursula, the
+nice sinnery kind that I love to play with. I am
+tired and hungry. Come on, let's find Lady Jinny
+and go home. Isn't the blessedest thing in the
+world to have one to go to? I dare you to race
+me to the corner." I was far from feeling playful,
+so declined.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;More than ever I felt the necessity of an interview
+with Page. I must know the truth. He must
+know the happenings of the afternoon.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;That evening, after dinner, while sitting with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>Zura in the living-room, I eagerly listened for
+Page's step in the hall. Soon it came, and as we
+arose to greet him I was made more anxious by his
+fever-bright eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was reassured, however, when he replied to my
+inquiries by saying: "Quite all right, thank you.
+Head gets a bit rocky at times, but that does not
+matter. Awfully sorry I was unable to be among
+those present at Miss Jane's tea party. Tell me
+all about it&mdash;the guests and the costumes."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Though he walked about the room, picking up
+books and small objects only to lay them quickly
+down, he gave the closest attention to Zura as she
+eagerly gave her account of the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was about to interrupt with a request to Page
+to come with me for a private conference in the
+dining-room, when a summons came for me to go
+at once to the house in the garden where Ishi lived.
+The messenger thought Ishi was very ill, or gone
+crazy. I found him very drunk. Standing in the
+middle of the room, with rows of rare orchids
+ranged around the walls, he was waving a sharp-bladed
+weapon while executing a sword dance. In
+between steps he made speeches to the plants, telling
+them how their blessed brothers and sisters had
+had their heads cut off by a silly girl on whom he
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>would have vengeance. He had sworn by his blood
+at the temple.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It required me a good hour to reduce him to submission
+and to sleep. When I returned to the house
+Page Hanaford was gone. I was disappointed
+enough to cry. Zura said that the next morning
+was the time for him to go to the Government
+office to fill out the papers required for his position
+at the Normal College, and that he must make his
+last preparation for this. He asked her to say to
+me that he would accept the offer I had made to
+go with him as interpreter and would call for me
+on his way down.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But," I asked almost peevishly, "what made
+him go so soon?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I am not sure. Maybe he wanted to study.
+Or, it may be, I made his head ache. I did talk a
+lot. I told him everything&mdash;about the babies in
+the bath and Jane's sermon and your detective."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, Zura!" I said helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, I did. Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;She leaned 'way over and looked at me steadily.
+Then with something of her old passion she cried:
+"Listen to me, Ursula! Don't you dare think Page
+Hanaford guilty of crime! There isn't anything
+wrong with him. I know it. I know it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"How do you know it, my child? Has he told
+you the real reason for his being in Japan? Has
+he told you why fear suddenly overtakes and confuses
+him? Or has he only dared to tell you other
+things?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A joyous little sob caught in her throat. "His
+lips have told me nothing, Ursula. His eyes and
+my heart have told me all."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"And without knowing these things you love
+him, Zura?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Love him," she echoed softly. "Right or
+wrong, I love him absolutely!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I looked at the girl in amazed wonder. There
+seemed to be an inner radiance as if her soul had
+been steeped in some luminous medium. She came
+nearer, her young face held close to mine. "Oh,
+I am so happy, so blissfully happy! For good or
+not, it's love for eternity. Dear, kind old friend!"&mdash;inclosing
+my face with her hands, she kissed me
+on the lips. In that faraway time of my babyhood
+my mother's good-by kiss was the last I had
+known. The rapture of the girl's caress repaid
+long, empty years. For a moment I was as happy
+as she. Then I remembered.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;All day I had seen love perform miracles, and,
+like some invisible power, regulate the workings of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>life as some deft hand might guide a piece of delicate
+machinery; but that anybody could be happy,
+radiantly happy, with shadows and detectives closing
+around the main cause of happiness was
+farther than I could stretch my belief in the transforming
+power of joy. Surely this thing called
+"love" was either farseeing wisdom or shortsighted
+foolishness.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>A VISIT TO THE KENCHO</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The North Wind began a wild song through
+the trees in the night. It tore at the mountains
+with the fury of an attacking army. It
+lashed the waters of the sea into a frenzy. With
+the dawn came the snow. Softly and tenderly it
+wrapped the earth in a great white coverlet, hushing
+the troubled notes of the savage storm music
+into plaintive echoes of a lullaby. As it grew light
+a world of magic beauty greeted my eyes. Winter
+was King, but withal a tender monarch wooing
+as his handmaidens the beauties of early spring.
+The great Camellia trees gave lavishly of their
+waxen flowers, brocading the snow in crimson.
+Young bamboo swinging low under the burden,
+edged its covering of white down with a lacy fringe
+of delicate green. The scene should have called
+forth a hymn of praise; but the feelings which
+gripped me more nearly matched the clouds rolled
+in heavy gray masses over land and sea.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page was to call for me at ten. Long before
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>that time I was sitting on the edge of the chair,
+ready and waiting, trying to coax into my over-soul
+an ounce or so of poise, a measure of serenity.
+It needed no fortune teller to forecast that this visit
+to the Kencho would be productive of results,
+whether good or bad the coming hours alone could
+tell.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Knowing the searching questions that would be
+put to Page Hanaford, I was beginning to wonder
+if the offer of this position was not part of
+the game Kobu was playing. I had never seen
+Japan's famous manhunter till the day before, but
+by reputation I knew him to be relentless in pursuit
+of victims to be offered as tribute to his genius.
+Thoughts of Page Hanaford in prison garb behind
+barred doors made me shiver.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was depressed in spirits and was trying to plan
+what I could possibly do, when the sound of Zura's
+voice came to me as she moved about in the upper
+story attending to her household duties. It was a
+foolish old negro melody she sang, and one of its
+verses ran:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ole Cap'n Noah a-feelin' mighty blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kep' a sayin' to hisself, "Oh, what shall I do?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Long come a sparrow bird, spic 'n spin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'N <i>he</i> say, "Brer Noah, do de bes' you kin.<br /></span>
+</div>
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></p>
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yo' joy 'n yo' trouble is sho' gwine to bide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'N las' jes' as long as yo' own tough hide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So say, Cap'n Noah, better laugh 'n grin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perk up yo' speerits 'n do de bes' yo kin.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The insistent note of happiness in the girl's voice
+and the humble philosophy of the song so cheered
+me that, when my escort appeared on the stroke of
+ten, hope came riding down on the streaks of sunshine
+that were battling through the clouds.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;While my companion had about him every mark
+of nervous restlessness that so often precedes a
+crisis or an illness he also had the air of a man
+at last determined to turn and face a pursuing
+enemy and stand, or fall by the clash. Fear was
+absent from face and manner. He even lightly
+jested as Jane, while greeting him, slipped into his
+pocket a tempting-looking package.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Page, dear," she twittered, "it is only cookies
+and sandwiches and pickles and cake. But talking
+always makes people hungry. Those nice gentlemen
+down at the Kencho are never in a hurry.
+They may keep you till after lunchtime. You and
+Miss Jenkins can have a tea party."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page laid a kindly hand on Jane's shoulder.
+"You dear little saint of a woman! How good
+all of you are to me, and how I thank you. Well
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>good-by. When you see me again I'll be&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;With hand outstretched to open the door for me
+to pass, he paused. Once again the sound of a song
+reached us:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Before I slept, I thought of thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then fell asleep and sought for thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And found thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I but known 'twas only seeming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had not waked, but lay forever dreaming."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;There was enough sweetness in Zura's voice to
+woo a man to Heaven or lure him to the other place.
+Page listened till the last note, then softly closed
+the door and walked beside me. The look on his
+face held me speechless. It was a glorious something
+he had gained, yet never to be his; a glimpse
+into paradise, then the falling of the shadows between;
+but the vision was his reward.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Usually it takes endless time in Japan to unwind
+the huge ball of red tape that is wrapped about the
+smallest official act. That morning, when Page
+and I presented ourselves at the Government office,
+the end of the tape seemed to have a pin stuck in
+it, so easily and swiftly was it found. Promptly
+announced, we were ushered without delay into a
+small inner office.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;The walls of this room were lined with numberless
+shelves filled with files and papers. Any remaining
+space was covered by pictures of famous
+persons, people wanted or wanting, and a geisha
+girl or two.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I noticed two other things in the room. Adorning
+the center of the table, before which we were
+seated, was a large cuspidor. The fresh flowers
+inside matched the painted ones outside. To Japanese
+eyes the only possible use for such an ornament
+was to hold blossoms. It was neither beautiful
+nor artistic, but being foreign was the very
+thing with which to welcome American guests.
+Anxious as I was I felt myself smiling, if rather
+palely, at the many ways in which Kishimoto's
+prophecy was being fulfilled.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The other thing was not amusing, only significant.
+Page sat opposite me and I faced a heavily
+curtained recess, and some one was behind the
+drapery. I had seen the folds move. I had no
+way of warning the boy. Had we been alone, I
+doubt if I would have made the effort. Concealment
+for Page, unendurable suspense for those who
+loved him, must end. I spoke only when necessary
+to interpret an unusual word.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A small official with a big manner began by
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>eulogizing Mr. Hanaford's skill in teaching and
+his success in imparting English. He felt it a great
+rudeness of manner to the honorable teacher gentleman,
+but the law compelled applicant for the position
+of Professor of English in the Normal College
+to answer many personal questions. For a moment
+he dallied with a few preliminary statements;
+then, throwing aside all reserve, the man began his
+probe as a skilled surgeon might search a victim's
+body for hidden bullets.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page, outwardly calm, answered steadily at first,
+but his knotted fingers and swelling veins showed
+the strain. Once his lips trembled. I had never
+seen a man's lips tremble before. It's no wonder
+mothers can die for sons.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Inquiries as to quantity and quality of ancestors,
+place of birth, age, calling now and formerly came
+with the precision of a marksman hunting the center
+of the target. "How long have you been in this
+country?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"About a year."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"From where did you come to Japan?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page hesitated, then stammered: "Don't remember."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The high-lifted brows of the official were eloquent,
+his voice increasingly sarcastic: "So!
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>Your memory makes absence. Repeat your name
+once again."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Page Hanaford."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Hanaford? So! Now your other name?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I have no other name."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Your other name!" was the sharp demand.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"My name is Page Hanaford, I tell you." He
+spoke with quick anger as he arose from the chair.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Your other name!" sternly reiterated his inquisitor.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A wave of confusion seemed to cover the boy.
+Desperate and at bay, he rather feebly steadied himself
+for a last defense. "What do you mean?
+Can't you hear me? I tell you for the last time my
+name is&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ford Page Hamilton," supplied the voice of
+Kobu, cool, suave and sure as he came from behind
+the curtain. "I arrest you as fugitive. See
+what paper says? You take moneys from bank."
+He exposed a circular printed in large type. It
+read:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"$5,000 reward for information of one Ford
+Page Hamilton, dead or alive. Last seen in Singapore,
+summer of 1912," followed by a detailed description
+and signed by a Chicago banking firm.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"It's a lie!" shouted Page as he read.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No lie. See? Page Hanaford San, Ford
+Hamilton San all same." Kobu held close to the
+pitiful white face a photograph which undoubtedly
+could have been Page Hanaford in happier days.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The boy looked, then laid his shaking arm across
+his eyes. With a moan as if his soul had yielded
+to despair he hoarsely whispered: "Oh, God! A
+thief! It's over!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;He sank to the floor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A VISITOR FROM AMERICA</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In old Nippon the flower of kindness reaches full
+perfection when friend or foe suffers defeat.
+Page Hanaford might be a long-hunted prize in
+the police world, but to the group around him as
+he lay on the floor, his head upon my lap, he was
+a stranger far from home and very ill. Justice
+could wait while mercy served. Pity urged willing
+messengers to bring restoratives, to summon doctors
+who pronounced the sick man in the clutches of
+fever. Hospitals in Hijiyama are built for the
+emergencies of war, and solicitude for Page's comfort
+was uppermost when, after a short consultation
+among the officials, permission was granted
+to remove him to my house with an officer in
+charge.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;A policeman headed the little procession that
+moved slowly up the steps to The House of the
+Misty Star, and one followed to keep at a distance
+the sympathetic, but curious crowd. Four men car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>ried
+a stretcher beside which I walked holding the
+limp hand of Page, who was still claimed by a merciful
+unconsciousness.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The news spread rapidly. As we reached the
+upper road I saw Zura at the entrance, waiting our
+coming, so rigid she seemed a part of the carving
+on the old lodge gates. Her face matched the snow
+beneath her feet.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Is he dead?" she demanded, as we came closer.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No. But he's desperately ill&mdash;and under arrest,"
+I hurriedly added.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, but he's alive; nothing else matters.
+Come on; my room is ready."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Before I could protest, she had given orders to
+the men, and Zura's bedroom was soon converted
+from a girlish habitation into a dwelling place where
+life and death waged contest.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Later the two physicians asked for an audience
+with me and delivered their opinion: "Hanaford
+San's illness is the result of a severe mental shock,
+received before recovery from previous illness;
+cause unknown; outcome doubtful."</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"><a href="images/img257.jpg">
+<img src="images/img257th.jpg" width="399" height="293" alt="&quot;Oh, God! A thief! It&#39;s over!&quot;" title="&quot;Oh, God! A thief! It&#39;s over!&quot;" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Oh, God! A thief! It&#39;s over!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;From the sick-room orders had been issued for
+absolute quiet. Every member of the house crept
+about, keenly aware of the grim foe that lurked in
+every corner. When night came down the dark
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>
+ness seemed to enter the house and wrap itself about
+us as well.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As Red Cross nurse on battlefields in the aftermath,
+I had helped put together the remnants of
+splendid men and promising youth; in sorrowing
+homes I had seen hope die with the going-out of
+such as these. But for me, no past moment of
+life held gloom so impenetrable as that first night
+when Page Hanaford lay in my house, helpless.
+The dreaded thing had come. The boy who had
+walked into our hearts to stay was a fugitive with
+only a small chance to live that he might prove he
+was not a criminal.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The evening household dinner remained untouched.
+The servants hung about the doors, eager
+to be of service, refusing to believe the sick man
+was anything but a prince of whom the gods were
+jealous. Only old Ishi was happy. In festal robes
+he was stationed at the lodge gates with a small
+table before him ready to do the honors of the
+house in the ancient custom of receiving cards.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Up the steps came a long procession of students,
+officials and civilians, my friends and Page's, every
+caller in best kimono. From one hand dangled a
+lighted lantern with the caller's name and calling
+shining boldly out through the thin paper, in the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>other he held a calling-card which was laid upon
+the table in passing. The long line testified to
+their liking and sympathy for the sick man. To
+each caller Ishi had a wonderful tale to tell. The
+marvel of it grew as his cups of sak&eacute; increased.
+At a late hour I found him entertaining a crowd
+with the story of how the silly foreign girl had
+cut off the heads of his ancestors which were in
+the flowers. Now the gods were taking their
+vengeance upon the one she loved best. Of course
+only an American girl would be so brazen as to
+show her liking for any special man. I took him
+by the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ishi, you are drunk. And at such a time."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, Jenkins San, I triumph for Hanaford San.
+He die to escape Zura San. 'T is special 'casion.
+All Japanese gentlemens drink special 'casions. I
+assist honorable gods celebrate downfall of 'Merca
+and women."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Having locked up the gates and Ishi, I went back
+to the living-room, where I found Jane and Zura.
+It was my first opportunity to tell them in detail
+what had happened at the Kencho&mdash;of Kobu's
+charge, the arrest and Page's collapse.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura was called from the room by some household
+duty. Jane and I were left alone. Though
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>my companion looked tired and a little anxious,
+she seemed buoyed up by some mental vision to
+which she hopefully clung.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Miss Jenkins, please tell me just what the poster
+said," asked Jane.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The printed words I had read that morning
+seemed burned into my brain. I repeated them exactly.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Well, it didn't even give a hint that Page was
+that nice cashier gentleman from Chicago, did it?"
+she inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, Jane, it didn't; only it was signed by the
+Chicago Bank. But Kobu told me he was sure
+Page was the man. He has cabled the authorities
+to come."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"He has cabled, has he? He knows, does he?
+Kobu has himself going to another thought. Isn't
+that what Zura says? Page Hanaford is no more
+the man wanted for borrowing that bank's money
+than I am a fashion plate wanted in Paris." Her
+words were light, but very sure.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Her apparent levity irritated me. "How do you
+know? What are you saying, Jane?" I asked
+sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, I just have a feeling that way. Page is
+too good-looking," answered my companion.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;"For the love of heaven, Jane Gray, that's no
+reason. Good looks don't keep a man from sin."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Maybe not, but they help; and Page loves poetry
+too," she ended with quiet stubbornness. Then
+after a pause: "That program did not say what
+particular thing our boy was wanted for, did it?"
+Neither in joy nor sorrow did Jane's talent desert
+her for misusing words.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, the circular did not state the details. But
+if you think there is any mistake about the whole
+thing go to the room and look at that policeman
+pacing up and down before the door. And if you
+think the boy's not desperately ill, look inside and
+see those two doctors and that speck of a trained
+nurse watching his every breath. You can read the
+paper yourself, if you don't believe me."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Miss Jenkins, don't pin your faith to a program;
+they tell awful fibs. Once I wrote one myself for
+a meeting and I said, 'The audience will remain
+standing while collection is taken,' and it made me
+say: 'The remains of the audience will be collected
+while standing.'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"How can you?" I asked. Hot tears stung my
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Instantly Jane was by my side. "How can I?
+Because it's best never to believe anything you
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>hear and only half of what you see. I know the
+dear boy is ill. But he's not guilty. The idea
+of that sweet boy, with such a nice mouth and
+teeth, doing anything dishonorable! It's all a mistake.
+I know guilt when I see it, and Page hasn't
+a feature of it."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane Gray exasperated me to the verge of hysteria,
+but her sure, simple faith had built a hospital
+and changed the criminal record of a city.
+The thought that she might be right, in spite of
+the circular and Kobu, gave me so much comfort
+that the tears flowed unchecked.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My companion looked at me critically for a moment,
+then left the room. She returned shortly
+bearing a heaped-up tray, which she arranged before
+me. "Honey, you can't be hopeful when you
+are hungry. You told me so yourself. I don't
+believe you've eaten since morning. Here's just
+a little bite of turkey and mince pie and chicken
+salad. Eat it. There's plenty more, for nobody's
+touched that big dinner we were going to celebrate
+Page's new position with. Now turn around to the
+lamp so you can see. What a funny fat shadow
+you make! But how sweet it is to know if we
+keep our faces to the light the shadows are always
+behind us! Now I must run and get a little
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>sleep. Zura says I am to go on watch at three."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I thought her gone, when the door opened again
+and I could see only her gray head and bright,
+though tired face. "Miss Jenkins, please don't let
+that layer cake fool you. It is not tough. I just
+forgot to take the brown papers from the bottom
+of the layers when I iced them. Do as I tell you,
+eat and sleep."</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What if to-morrow's care were here<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Without its rest?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd rather He'd unlock the day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, as the hours swing open, say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Thy will be best.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Good-night, dear friend."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Then she was gone. The tables were turned in
+more ways than one. Jane was counselor and I
+the counseled, she the comforter and I to be comforted.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the daughters of Japan lies a hidden quality
+ever dormant unless aroused by a rough shake from
+the hand of necessity; it is the power to respond
+calmly and skilfully to emergencies. In this, as
+never before, Zura Wingate declared her Oriental
+heritage. On the tragic morning when I had gone
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>with Page to the Kencho I had left her a singing,
+joyous girl, her feet touching the borderland of
+earth's paradise. I returned and found her a
+woman, white lipped and tense, but full of quiet
+command. The path to love's domain had been
+blocked by a sorrow which threatened desolation
+to happiness and life. Not with tears and vain
+rebellion did she protest against fate or circumstances,
+nor waste a grain of energy in useless re-pinings.
+With the lofty bearing her lordly forefathers
+wore when going forth to defeat or victory
+this girl stood ready, and served so efficiently that
+both nurse and doctors bestowed their highest
+praise when they told her she was truly a Japanese
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;So frequent were the demands from household
+and sick-room that I feared for her strength. I
+knew she suffered. Rigid face muscles and dark-rimmed
+eyes so testified; but aside from these some
+tireless spirit held her far above weariness. Alert
+to see and quick to perform, under her hand, after
+a few days, the house settled down into a routine
+where each member had a special duty. In turn
+we watched or waited while the heavy, anxious days
+dragged themselves along until they numbered ten.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the last half of each night Zura and I watched
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>by Page and wrestled with the cruel thing that
+held him captive. They were painful, but revealing
+hours. I was very close to the great secrets of
+life, and the eternal miracle of coming dawn was
+only matched in tender beauty by the wonder of a
+woman's love. It was Zura's cool, soft hand that
+held the burning lids and shut out the hideous
+specters Page's fevered eyes saw closing down upon
+him. It was her voice that soothed him into slumber
+after the frenzy of delirium.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ah," he'd pant, weary of the struggle with a
+fancied foe, "you've come, my lovely princess.
+No! You're my goddess!" Then with tones
+piteous and beseeching he would begin anew the
+prayer ever present on his lips since his illness.
+"Beloved goddess, tell me&mdash;what did I do with
+them? You are divine; you know. Help me to
+find them quick. Quick; they are shutting the
+door; it has bars. I cannot see your face."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I am here, Page," Zura would answer. "If
+the door shuts, I'll be right by your side."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In love for the boy each member of the house
+was ready day or night for instant service, but vain
+were our combined efforts to help the fevered brain
+to lay hold of definite thought long enough for him
+to name the thing that was breaking his heart.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>From pleading for time to search for something, he
+would wander into scenes of his boyhood. Once
+he appealed to me as his mother and asked me to
+sing him to sleep. Before I could steady my lips
+he had drifted into talk of the sea and tried to sing
+a sailor's song. Often he fancied himself on a
+pirate ship and begged not to be put off on some
+lonely island. He fiercely resisted. But his feebleness
+was no match for Zura's young strength,
+and as she held him she would begin to sing:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Before I slept I thought of thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then fell asleep and sought for thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And found thee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I but known 'twas only seeming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had not waked, but lay forever dreaming."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Dreaming, dreaming," the boy would repeat.
+"Sweetheart, you are my dearest dream."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Inch by inch we fought and held at bay the
+enemy. We lost all contact with the outside. To
+us the center of the world was the pink-and-white
+room, and on the stricken boy that lay on the bed
+was staked all our hope.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The long delayed crisis flashed upon us early one
+morning when the doctors found in what we had
+feared was the end only a healing sleep from which
+Page awakened and called Zura by name. Even
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>then it was a toss-up whether he could win out
+against despair. Uppermost in his mind was ever
+the torturing thought of the thing that had made
+him a fugitive.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;An icy hand was laid upon our joy at the signs
+of returning health when we remembered a certain
+ship that was right then cutting the blue waters of
+the Pacific nearing the shores of Japan, bearing authority
+to make a prisoner of Page if he lived.
+They were not happy days, and it was with undefined
+emotions that I saw life and strength come
+slowly to the sick man.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;By daily visits Kobu kept himself advised of the
+patient's condition, and kept us informed of the
+swift approach of the Vancouver steamer and its
+dreaded passenger. One day, when Page was sleeping
+and our anxiety as to what was coming had
+reached the breaking point, the detective came. He
+announced that he had received information that
+the steamer had docked at Yokohama that morning.
+In the afternoon the Chicago Bank representative
+would arrive at Otsu, our nearest railroad station.
+Kobu said he would bring the guest to our house
+at once and his kind wish that Page San's "sicker
+would soon be healthy" did not wholly hide the triumph
+of his professional pride.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;He went his way to the station, leaving behind
+him thoughts sadder than death can bring.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When I told Jane what we were to expect her
+pale eyes were almost drowned. She looked frail
+and tired, but from somewhere a smile made rainbows
+of her tears.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Don't give up, Miss Jenkins. No use crying
+over cherry blossoms before they wither. Kobu's
+human enough to be mistaken. Detectives aren't
+so smart. Sometimes they tree a chipmunk and
+think it's a bear."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was the nearest I'd ever heard Jane come to
+a criticism, and I knew she felt deeply to go this
+far.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Zura listened quietly to what I had to tell. But
+her eyes darkened and widened. "You mean they
+are coming to take Page away?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes; as soon as he is strong enough."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Then I am going with him."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Go with him? You, a young girl, go with a
+man who is in charge of an officer? It's impossible.
+I pray God it's not true, but if the law can
+prove that Page has sinned, he will have to pay the
+penalty in prison. You can't go there."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"No, but I can wait outside, and be ready to
+stand by him when he is released. No matter how
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>guilty the law declares him, he is still the same Page
+to me. He's mine. I belong to him. Did not my
+own mother think home and country well lost for
+love? She knew her fate and smiled while she
+blindly followed. I know mine, and there is no
+other path for me but by the side of Page. Whatever
+comes I've known his love."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was not the raving of a hysterical girl; it was
+the calm utterance of a woman&mdash;one of the East,
+who in recognizing the call of her destiny unshrinkingly
+accepts its decrees of sorrow as well as of
+joy. By training, environment and inclination Zura
+Wingate might be of the West; but her Occidental
+blood was diluted with that of the East, and wherever
+is found even one small drop, though it sleep
+long, in the end it arises and claims its own as surely
+as death claims life.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was only a little while since Kobu had left us
+to go to the station to bring the unwelcome visitor
+from America.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The hills had scarcely ceased the echo of the
+shrieking engine, it seemed to me, when I heard
+the tap of the gong at the entrance. I started at
+once for Page's room where Zura and Jane were on
+watch.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kobu and his companion were ahead of me.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>The brilliant light of a sunny afternoon softened as
+it sifted through the paper shoji, suffusing room
+and occupants in a tender glow. Through it, as
+I reached the door, I saw Zura half bending over
+the bed, shielding the face of the sick boy, Jane
+at the foot with lifted, detaining hand, Kobu's face
+as he pointed to the bed, saying, "There, sir, is the
+thief&mdash;I mean prisoner," and his startled look as
+the tall, gray-headed stranger went swiftly to the
+bed and gathered Page into his outstretched arms.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"A thief!" he cried. "Somebody's going to
+get hurt in a minute. He's my son. Oh! boy,
+boy, I thought I'd lost you!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></p>
+<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>"THE END OF THE PERFECT DAY"</h3>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane was the first in that astonished group to
+recover, and her voice was as sweet and clear
+as a trumpet-call of victory, singing her gladness
+and trust: "I knew it! I knew it! But who are
+you, sir? Page said his father was dead."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I? My name is Ford Page Hamilton, and this
+is my boy. I've been looking for him for months."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page's eyes intently searched his father's face,
+as alternate fear and joy possessed him. The moment
+was tense; we waited breathlessly; at last
+Page asked: "But, Father, what did I do with
+them?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"With what, son?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"The bags of money&mdash;the collection I was to
+turn over to the firm."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You delivered them sealed and labeled, then
+you disappeared off the map, just as if you had
+melted."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The word "melted" seemed to open in the brain
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>of the invalid a door long closed. A sleeping
+memory stirred. "Wait! It is all coming back!
+Give me time!" he pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was no place for a crowd. I took Zura by
+the hand, pulled Jane's sleeve, motioned Kobu toward
+the door, and together we went softly away.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;An hour later, when Mr. Hamilton came in, the
+happiest spot in all the Flowery Kingdom was the
+little living-room of "The House of the Misty
+Star."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Page was asleep through sheer exhaustion, and
+the father, with lowered voice and dimmed eyes,
+told the story.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;The explanation was all so simple I felt as if I
+should be sentenced for not thinking of it before.
+For had I not seen what tricks the heat of the Orient
+could play with the brain cells of a white man?
+Had I not seen men and women go down to despair
+under some fixed hallucination, conjured from
+the combination of overwork and a steamed atmosphere&mdash;transforming
+happy, normal humans into
+fear-haunted creatures, ever pursued by an unseen
+foe? In such a fever-racked mind lay all Page's
+troubles.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;For the last four years he had held a place of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>heavy responsibility with a large oil concern in
+Singapore. His duties led him into isolated districts.
+Danger was ever present, but a Malay robber
+was no more treacherous an enemy than the
+heat, and far less subtle. One day, after some unusually
+hard work, Page turned in his money and
+reports, and went his way under the blistering sun.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;It was then that the fever played its favorite game
+by confusing his brain and tangling his thoughts.
+He wandered down to the docks and aboard a tramp
+steamer about to lift anchor. When the vessel was
+far away the fateful disease released its grip on his
+body. But in the many months of cruising among
+unnamed islands in southern seas, it cruelly mocked
+him with a belief he had purloined the money and
+taunted him with forgetfulness as to the hiding
+place.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;When Page left the ship at a Japanese port
+memory cleared enough to give him back a part
+of his name, but tricked him into hiding from a
+crime he had not committed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;My remorse was unmeasurable as I realized the
+whole truth, but my heart out-caroled any lark that
+ever grew a feather. The boy's soul was as clean
+as our love for him was deep.</p>
+
+<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 356px;"><a href="images/img275.jpg">
+<img src="images/img275th.jpg" width="356" height="399" alt="&quot;Oh! boy, boy, I thought I&#39;d lost you&quot;" title="&quot;Oh! boy, boy, I thought I&#39;d lost you&quot;" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Oh! boy, boy, I thought I&#39;d lost you&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"You see," continued Mr. Hamilton, "Page's
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>mother died when he was only a lad, and my responsibility
+was doubled. When his regular letters
+ceased I cabled his firm for information. They
+were unable to find any trace of him. He had always
+been such a strong, sturdy youth I could not
+connect him with illness. Fearing he had been
+waylaid or was held for ransom I offered the reward
+through my Chicago bankers. The months
+at sea of course blocked us. The suspense was
+growing intolerable when the information came
+from Mr. Kobu; that brought me here."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;All this time the detective had been silent. But
+no word or look of the others escaped him. At
+last the thing was forced upon him. He had
+missed the much-wanted cashier whose capture
+meant a triumph over the whole detective world.
+And he had been so very sure Page was the man!
+Descriptions and measurements were so alike. Both
+from the same city, one with the name of Hamilton,
+the other with that of Hammerton.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As Page's father remarked when he heard the
+story: "Mr. Kobu, those names are enough alike
+to be brothers, though I'm glad they are not."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;But Kobu was not to be coaxed into any excuse
+for himself. Any one who knew him could but
+know the humiliation he would suffer at mistaking
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>the prize. Even a big reward was slight balm to
+the blow at his pride. Intently he watched and
+listened until the details were clear to him. He
+could not understand all this emotion and indulgence
+in tears which were good only to wash the
+dust from eyes. But Kobu was truly Japanese in
+his comprehension of a father's love. He masked
+his chagrin with a smile and paid unstinted praise
+to the man who had tirelessly searched for his only
+son. With many bows and indrawings of breath
+the detective made a profound adieu to each of us
+and took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;As the sound of the closing lodge gates reached
+us something in Jane's attitude caught my attention.
+In her eye was the look of a mischievous
+child who had foiled its playmate.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Jane, what is the matter with you?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I was just feeling so sorry for Mr. Kobu. He
+is awfully nice, but I could not tell him. I knew!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"What?" I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Oh, I knew dear Page was not the gentleman
+who borrowed the bank's money."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Knew it! How did you know?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Because a little while ago that nice cashier
+gentleman from Chicago sought shelter in the
+Quarters. I heard his story. He was the hungri<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>est
+man for home cooking I ever saw. I gave him
+plenty of it, too, and a little Testament besides, before
+he left."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why, Jane Gray! you knew this and did not
+tell?"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yes, Miss Jenkins; that is what I did. You
+see I am a sort of father confessor. I simply cannot
+furnish information about the dear people who
+confide in me. I would have saved Page, but when
+I came home and found him ill something told me
+to give both men a chance. I knew Page was not
+guilty. The same thing that made me sure of my
+hospital made me certain he would get well. The
+other man&mdash;well, you know, I am only a messenger
+of hope. I wanted to give him time to read
+that little book!"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I was dumb with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Upon my word," remarked Mr. Hamilton after
+an eloquent pause, "as a soul diplomat you give
+me a new light on missionaries! Everything is all
+right now. I have found my son, and, if I know
+the signs, a daughter as well. She is a picture
+in her nurse's dress. Tell me about her."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;I turned to look for Zura, but she was no longer
+in the room.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Leaving the delighted Jane in a full swing of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>talk about Zura, I withdrew and crossed the
+passageway. The paper doors of the sick chamber
+were wide apart, and once again I saw outlined
+against the glow of the evening sky two figures.
+The girl held the hands of the man against her
+heart, and through the soft shadows came low,
+happy voices:</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ah, Zura, 'I sought for thee and found
+thee!'"</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"Belovedest," joyously whispered the girl,
+bending low. Darkness, tender as love itself,
+folded about them, and I went my peaceful way.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Two long-to-be-remembered months passed
+swiftly. On the wings of each succeeding hour
+was borne to Page the joy of returning health,
+to the other members of my household the gladness
+of life we had never before known. Mr.
+Hamilton remained, waiting to take back with him,
+as one, Page and Zura. In the fullness of her
+joy Zura was quite ready to forgive and be forgiven,
+and said so very sincerely to her grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Kishimoto San replied in a way characteristic.
+He said the whole tragedy was the inevitable result
+of broken traditions and the mixing of two
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>races which to the end of eternity would never
+assimilate. He had washed his heart clean of all
+anger against her, but his days were nearing a
+close. He had lost the fight and for him life was
+done. Oblivion would be welcome, for after all</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What of our life! 'T is imaged by a boat:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wide dawn sees it on the sea afloat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Swiftly it rows away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the dancing waves no trace is seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That it has ever been!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Jane's hospital was soon completed, and I could
+no longer resist the sincere pleadings for her to
+be allowed to live in the quarters once again.
+"My people are calling, and, though I am a frail
+and feeble leader, I must give all my time to them
+and help them to find the way back home and sell
+their souls for the highest price."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Without protest I let her go. I had no word
+of criticism for Jane. Every soul is born for a
+purpose&mdash;some to teach, others to preach, and
+all to serve. Miss "Jaygray" more than justified
+her calling and her kind. Her simple faith had
+made many whole.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once again the Spirit of Spring held the old
+garden in a radiance of color. Once again the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>bird from the spirit land called to its mate and
+heard the soft thrill of the answer. The singing
+breeze swayed the cloud of cherry bloom, sending
+showers of petals to earth, covering the grim
+old stone image, making giant pink mushrooms of
+the low lanterns.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;How lonely a thing would have been the Spirit
+of Spring had it not walked hand in hand with the
+Spirit of Love!</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;In the white moonlight sifting through the
+pines I saw Page and Zura in my garden on their
+last night in old Japan&mdash;destinies, begun afar,
+fulfilled beneath the shadows of the smiling gods.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;"But think what love will do to them both,"
+had once said the foolishly wise little missionary.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;And now it has all come to pass.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;Once again I am alone, yet never lonely, for
+my blessings are unmeasured. I have my work.
+I have love, and The House of the Misty Star
+holds the precious jewel of memory.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h4>THE END</h4>
+
+<p class="bbox">Transcriber's notes: Quotation marks normalised.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The House of the Misty Star
+by Fannie Caldwell Macaulay
+
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