The Motor Maids in Fair Japan | Page 5

tray containing tea and rice cakes. But Yoritomo, ignoring these humble services, sat himself in a chair next to Nancy and little Onoye hastened to rectify her mistake.
In the meantime, Nicholas Grimm was talking to Billie and Elinor.
"Are you from Holland?" they asked him.
"Several hundreds of years ago I was. Kinterhook, New York, has been my home for the last generation."
"Good," exclaimed Billie, "I thought you were a Dutchman and it's lots nicer to be an American, don't you think so?"
"I wouldn't care to change," answered Nicholas solemnly. "America's good enough for me."
"Are you one of the engineers on the new railroad they are building?" asked Billie.
"I'm going to lay a few ties," he answered.
"Are you going to build those little funny openwork bridges over all the streams?" demanded Elinor.
"Something like it. Everything is picturesque in this country from beggars to railroad bridges, and, speaking of bridges, have you explored the garden yet? There's a ripping little bridge down there. When Mrs. Spears gave garden parties that was one of the strolling places."
"Why, we didn't know we had such a pretentious garden!" exclaimed Billie. "Papa wrote that he had sublet a suburban villa near Tokyo with an acre or so of ground around it."
"An acre or so?" repeated Nicholas. "That's an estate to them. They can put as much into an acre without crowding it as other people put into ten. Perhaps you would like to explore the garden if you have had enough honorable refreshment?"
"Oh, yes," they answered eagerly, and drawing shy little Mary from the depths of her chair, Billie followed Elinor and the new friend down the garden path.
"Would you be interested in seeing the garden?" asked Yoritomo of Nancy.
"I might be induced," she answered drooping her long eyelashes, to the great amusement of Mr. Campbell, and they also wandered off, leaving the two older people for a cousinly chat.
The girls were amazed at the beauty of the garden back of the house. Against the high wall surrounding the small estate clustered masses of flowers. Everywhere were little winding paths and an occasional grove of stunted pines that gave the impression of great age. It was in exquisite order, the green turf clipped to the smoothness of a velvet carpet. In all the garden there was not a leaf nor twig out of place. Back of the house the land sloped slightly and at the foot of this gentle depression trickled a musical little stream. Here was a stone lantern five feet high, also the miniature curved bridge; and to make the picture complete in every Japanese detail, leaning pensively on the railing of the bridge, stood Onoye. She herself might have been a bright colored flower in her gay kimono and sash.
Only Mary noticed that the little Japanese was weeping softly. When she saw the Americans coming, she hastily withdrew down one of the paths and in another moment had disappeared entirely.
"Poor little thing," thought Mary, "perhaps her mother has been scolding her."
Perhaps she had, indeed, for O'Haru, the housekeeper, presently appeared looking for her daughter. Shading her eyes with one hand, she scanned the vistas of the garden.
Mary left the group of friends and hastened down the path.
"Are you looking for Onoye?" she asked the old woman.
"Yes, honorable lady," answered O'Haru, trying to replace her uneasy and troubled expression with a pleasant smile.
"She was on the bridge a moment ago. Is she unhappy? I think she was crying."
"Have greatly kindness to forgive humble Japanese girl," answered O'Haru in a low voice.
Mary thought the housekeeper was going to say more and no doubt, if she had poured out her confidences at that time, many later misunderstandings might have been averted. As it was, they were interrupted by Nancy and her Japanese cavalier who turned the curve of the path and came full upon them quite suddenly.
Instead of hastening away as quietly as possible, O'Haru immediately fell on her knees and began speaking in a low voice in her own language.
There was nothing unusual in this. All the servants seemed to be in a continual state of "nervous prostration," as Billie expressed it, and Nancy, smiling and dimpling, followed Yoritomo down the path without thinking any more about O'Haru.
"What was she saying, Mr. Ito?" she asked.
"You might accuse me of being a flatterer if I told you," he answered.
"But I don't understand."
"I mean she was speaking of you. 'The honorable young American lady,'" she said, "'is very beautiful.'"
Nancy was flattered, as who would not have been over this frank compliment. A rosy flush spread over her face and the dimple deepened in her cheek.
"You see, you are an unusual type in this country, Miss Brown," continued the Japanese. "You must expect to arouse comment wherever you go. Hair with so much color to it, like polished copper