Little Sister Snow | Page 9

on her heels and viewed her work with deep satisfaction. "All finished," she said, opening wide her arms; "no more to do now but wait for that time 'Merican sensei call jollyful!"
A laugh behind her made her turn her head quickly, and there in the doorway stood a tall foreigner, with outstretched hand of welcome.
Hand-shaking was an unknown art with Yuki San, so after one startled upward glance she touched her head to the floor in gracious courtesy.
All her gay spirits and freedom of speech vanished, and she was instantly enveloped in a mist of shyness and reserve that Merrit's direct look did not serve to lessen.
With lowered eyes, she ushered him into the larger living-room, and bade him be seated and accept all the hospitality her father's poor house could give.
After a long and tiresome journey Merrit found something inexpressibly charming in the quiet, picturesque place, and in the silent young girl who sat so demurely in the shadow. He tactfully ignored her timidity by talking cheerful nonsense about impersonal things, treating her as a bashful child who wanted to be friends but hardly dared.
As he talked Yuki San gained courage, and ventured many curious glances at the broad-shouldered young fellow, whose figure seemed completely to fill the room. At first she saw only a strange foreigner, but gradually, as she watched his face and listened to his unfamiliar speech, she discovered a long-lost playmate.
Through all the years that she had struggled for an education at the mission-school, English had been invariably associated with a tall, awkward, foreign boy, whose mouth made funny curves and whose eyes laughed when he made strange sounds. How big and splendid and handsome he had grown! How different his clothes from any she had ever seen before! How white his long hands, whose strong, firm touch she remembered so well! She looked and looked again, drinking in the tones of his deep voice, till the throbbing of her heart sent a flood of crimson to her cheeks.
But gradually her shyness wore away, and when Merrit asked her how in the world he was to conduct his business with so few Japanese words at his command, she ventured to answer: "I know; I give you the teach of Nippon, you give me the wise of dat funny 'Merican tongue."
"That's a go!" said Dick, as he held out his hand to close the bargain.
But the girl drew back, troubled.
"No, no, you no go! You stay. I give you all my intellect of Nippon speech. Please!" and she looked up pleadingly.
Merrit laughed outright.
"That's all right, Yuki San; I am going to stay, and we will begin school in the morning."
By this time the mother and father had learned of the guest's arrival and hurried in to bid him welcome. The unpacking of his steamer-trunk and the disposal of his possessions in his small apartment was a matter of interest to the whole family. Each article was politely examined and exclaimed over, and when Merrit drew out a package of photographs and showed them his home and family and friends, the excitement became intense.
That night Yuki San lay once more on her soft futon and watched the shadow of the night-lamp play upon the screens. Nothing was changed in the homely room since she had lain there in her babyhood: the same little lamp, the same little Buddha on the shelf looking at her with inscrutable eyes.
Yuki San stirred restlessly. "Dat most nice girl in picture," she said to herself. "Him make marry with dat girl, he say." Then she added inconsequently, with a sigh, "I much hope Saito San go to war for long, long time."
CHAPTER IV
For two halcyon months Yuki San lived in a dream. The ample compensation Merrit insisted upon making for the hospitality extended to him more than met the modest needs of the little household, and once again, as in the earlier days, they went on jolly excursions, visited ancient temples, and picnicked under the shadow of the torii. The father and mother always trotted close behind, and Yuki San, vastly pleased with her ability, gaily translated the speeches from one to another. She talked incessantly, laughing over her own mistakes, and growing prettier and more winsome every day.
Merrit was glad to fill his leisure time in such pleasant companionship. Yuki San was the same little bundle of charm he remembered of old, with her innocence untouched, and a heart whose depths had never yet been stirred.
He teased her, and taught her, and played with her, as he would have played with a merry child. Naturally gentle and affectionate, he unconsciously swept Yuki San to the borderland of that golden world where to awaken alone is agony.
One morning, when the heavy mists of the valley lay in masses of pink against the