The Motor Maids in Fair Japan | Page 4

speaking the language of her youth, she gave a little expressive whine of pleasure.
"You poor old lonesome thing," exclaimed the compassionate Billie.
Just then a maid hurried up with a cushion. She had evidently been detailed to look after Nedda in the absence of the mistress of the house; to feed and bathe her; to see that she was covered up at night; to guard against her sleeping in damp places. Nedda stepped gingerly on the mat, moved round and round in a circle several times, even as the most primitive dog might do, and settled herself in a round heap for her late afternoon siesta. Then O'Sudzu, the little maid, spread a wadded silk cover over the pampered old Nedda and departed, bowing again.
They were still laughing over this absurd incident when Mr. Campbell appeared on the walk with two companions. One was a good looking young man about twenty-one and the other a Japanese in European clothes, and very handsome, the girls thought him, in spite of his Oriental features and dark complexion.
CHAPTER II.
TEA IN THE GARDEN.
Nancy Brown instinctively put her hand to her curls when she saw the three approach. Elinor patted her coronet braids. Mary blushed and shrank timidly into the depths of her chair, for she was very shy; and Billie, whose candid nature had no coquetry, looked calmly interested and remarked:
"Dear old Papa, there he is with two visitors."
"I'm not at all surprised," said Miss Campbell smiling, "your Papa is one of the most general inviters I ever knew. He always loved to entertain."
"How do my five beautiful American ladies feel?" called her jovial relation as he entered the summer house. "Rested with humble refreshment in poor modest little house?"
"Yes, indeed, honorable father," answered Billie laughing.
"I want you to meet my two friends, Nicholas Grimm and Yoritomo Ito," went on Mr. Campbell.
Nicholas Grimm was apparently a young Dutchman. His figure was well set up and stocky, his features regular, his mouth firm with a good square chin, and his clear dark eyes under bushy brows gazed on the world with a frank, good-humored expression.
Yoritomo Ito was the best type of Japanese, lithe and straight, rather tall, with shrewd brown eyes and a smile that always hovered about his shapely mouth. He was immaculately neat and his skin looked as if it might have been scrubbed and then polished. Not a speck of dust marred his spotless linen or his dark blue suit.
"Mr. Ito, will you sit on a mat on the floor or in a chair?" asked Miss Campbell when the introductions were over.
"Oh, he can be Japanese or American, whichever suits him," interrupted Mr. Campbell, "though I'll wager you didn't do much floor sitting when you went to Harvard, did you, Yoritomo?"
The Japanese's smile broadened somewhat when he answered with a slight accent:
"American floors are not intended to be used as chairs."
"Meaning, Mr. Ito, that the American floors are not as entirely free from dust as the Japanese floors?" inquired Miss Campbell.
"Oh, no, Madam," protested the Japanese, horrified at this implication of rudeness but unable to dispel the impression nevertheless.
"I grant you that our houses are not as clean as yours," went on Miss Campbell, "but you see we haven't time to remove our shoes whenever we enter the house, and then we have so much furniture and so many hangings to catch the dust. I don't see how you Japanese can resist the collecting habit in a country where there are so many beautiful things to collect."
"My dear Cousin, they are as great collectors as anybody, only they keep their valuables stored in a fire-proof house--what is it you call it, Yoritomo?" asked Mr. Campbell.
"It is called in English language a 'go-down.'"
"So it is, a 'go-down.' It always reminds me of a steep grade down the side of a mountain. Here they keep all their best clothes and vases and ornaments and only bring out one vase and one scroll at a time. When they grow tired of those things, they are stored and something else is brought out, so that there is perpetual variety in the Japanese home."
"I should hate to have my best clothes locked in a fire-proof house," announced Nancy. "Suppose one wanted to make a quick change and the key was mislaid."
"Ah, Miss Nancy," laughed Mr. Campbell, "it is not difficult to see where your heart lies."
Yoritomo looked at Nancy with polite though evident interest which gradually developed into a cautiously veiled admiration. He was about to speak, when he was interrupted by the troop of little maids headed by Onoye with tea and refreshments. It was Onoye who served the young Japanese. First she bowed before him until her forehead almost touched the ground. Then she placed a mat for him to sit upon and a low lacquer