Kimono | Page 6

Markham, was the truth. She had
made a mistake; she had destined Asako for somebody quite different.
It was the girl herself who had been the first to enlighten her. She came
to her hostess's boudoir one evening before the labours of the night
began.
"Lady Georgie," she had said--Lady Everington is Lady Georgie to all
who know her even a little. "Il faut que je vous dise quelque chose."
The girl's face glanced downward and sideways, as her habit was when
embarrassed.
When Asako spoke in French it meant that something grave was afoot.
She was afraid that her unsteady English might muddle what she
intended to say. Lady Everington knew that it must be another proposal;
she had already dealt with three.
"_Eh bien, cette fois qui est-il?_" she asked.
"_Le capitaine Geoffroi_" answered Asako. Then her friend knew that
it was serious.

"What did you say to him?" she demanded.
"I tell him he must ask you."
"But why drag me into it? It's your own affair."
"In France and in Japan," said Asako, "a girl do not say Yes and No
herself. It is her father and her mother who decide. I have no father or
mother; so I think he must ask you."
"And what do you want me to say?"
For answer Asako gently squeezed the elder woman's hand, but Lady
Georgie was in no mood to return the pressure. The girl at once felt the
absence of the response, and said,--
"What, you do not like the _capitaine Geoffroi_?"
But her fairy godmother answered bitterly,--
"On the contrary, I have a considerable affection for Geoffrey."
"Then," cried Asako, starting up, "you think I am not good enough for
him. It's because I'm--not English."
She began to cry. In spite of her superficial hardness, Lady Everington
has a very tender heart. She took the girl in her arms.
"Dearest child," she said, raising the little, moist face to hers, "don't cry.
In England we answer this great question ourselves. Our fathers and
mothers and fairy godmothers have to concur. If Geoffrey Barrington
has asked you to marry him, it is because he loves you. He does not
scatter proposals like calling-cards, as some young men do. In fact, I
have never heard of him proposing to anyone before. He does not want
you to say 'No', of course. But are you quite ready to say 'Yes'? Very
well, wait a fortnight, and don't see more of him than you can help in
the meantime. Now, let them send for my masseuse. There is nothing
so exhausting to the aged as the emotions of young people."

That evening, when Lady Everington met Geoffrey at the theatre, she
took him severely to task for treachery, secrecy and decadence. He, was
very humble and admitted all his faults except the last, pleading as his
excuse that he could not get Asako out of his head.
"Yes, that is a symptom," said her Ladyship; "you are clearly stricken.
So I fear I am too late to effect a rescue. All I can do is to congratulate
you both. But, remember, a wife is not nearly so fugitive as a melody,
unless she is the wrong kind of wife."
It was a wrench for the little lady to part with the oldest of her
friendships, and to give up her Geoffrey to the care of this decorative
stranger whose qualities were unknown, and undeveloped. But she
knew what the answer would be at the end of the fortnight. So she
steeled her nerves to laugh at her friends commiserations and to make
the marriage of her godchildren one of the season's successes. It would
certainly be an interesting addition to her museum of domestic dramas.
* * * * *
There was one person whom Lady Everington was determined to pump
for information on that wedding-day, and had drawn into the net of her
invitations for this very purpose. It was Count Saito, the Japanese
Ambassador.
She cornered him as he was admiring the presents, and whisked him
away to the silence and twilight of her husband's study.
"I am so glad you were able to come, Count Saito," she began. "I
suppose you know the Fujinamis, Asako's relatives in Tokyo?"
"No, I do not know them." His Excellency answered, but his tone
conveyed to the lady's instinct that he personally would not wish to
know them.
"But you know the name, do you not?"
"Yes, I have heard the name; there are many families called Fujinami in

Japan."
"Are they very rich?"
"Yes, I believe there are some who are very rich," said the little
diplomat, who clearly was ill at ease.
"Where does their money come from?" his inquisitor went on
remorselessly, "You are keeping something from me, Count Saito.