The Motor Maids in Fair Japan | Page 2

daughter to have such an opportunity to see the other side of the
world?"

The Captain returned the kiss with good measure and resumed his
study of the maps and charts.
"You'll be a member of the Royal Geographical Society next," he
observed.
"It's all happened because Billie Campbell has a mole on the sole of her
left foot and a Gypsy once told her that was the mark of the wanderer."
"But you and Elinor and Mary haven't any moles on the soles of your
feet, have you?"
"No, and neither has Miss Campbell."
"It's just as well," commented the Captain. "One is enough in the party
if it's going to take my little daughter away from her home most of the
time."
"Not most of the time, father," protested Nancy. "Only to Palm Beach
and across the Continent and to England--"
At this dangerous turn in the conversation, the door was pushed open
and Billie Campbell rushed in, followed by Elinor Butler and Mary
Price.
"It's all settled, Nancy-Bell," she cried. "Cousin Helen has consented
and the girls can go. Everything depends on you, now--"
"We are just studying the map," answered Nancy quickly, with a
demure smile.
Immediately the other girls seated themselves in a circle about the sea
captain and his charts, and Mrs. Brown, whose consent had already
been gained, presently appeared with a large platter of cookies.
So it was that the Motor Maids and Miss Campbell sailed through the
Golden Gate of San Francisco harbor one morning en route for the
island empire of Japan. On the long and sometimes tedious voyage we
will not dwell; nor shall we pause until we have left them on the piazza

of their new home in Tokyo, while seven Japanese servants are making
profound obeisances at the entrance and their attendant families,
including three grandmothers and five funny little children, bob and
bow in the rear of this formidable company.
Billie, who had scarcely left her father's side since the joyful moment
of their reunion, hung on his arm and smiled up into his face
inquiringly; while Miss Helen Campbell, his cousin, exclaimed:
"Dear me, Duncan; I thought we were to stay at a private house--not a
hotel."
Mr. Campbell, from his mysterious dwelling places in far distant lands,
had made so many things possible for the Motor Maids that Billie's
three friends had come to regard him as a kind of powerful spirit who
had only to will things to happen and they happened. At first they were
rather shy of the real Mr. Campbell, big and strong and splendid, the
very image of his daughter, Billie, if she had grown half a foot and
cropped her light brown hair closely all over her head.
"But, Cousin Helen, this is a private house," answered this human
presentment of the good spirit, a subdued humor lighting his gray eyes,
exactly as they had seen Billie's eyes kindle hundreds of times. "This is
your very own villa and this is your staff of domestics," he added,
indicating the regiment of servants who again bowed low like the
chorus in a comic opera. "You are to regard yourself as queen of this
little realm," he went on, pointing to the charming grounds and garden
surrounding the house, "and you are to be in absolute command. Nellie
and Nannie and Mollie and Billie are to be your maids of honor and I'll
be general factotum and protector. As for the staff," he continued in a
whisper, "their combined wages for one month amount to about one
good servant's hire at home."
The maid in the front of the cohort now stepped forth. She was much
older than the others; her hair was short and her blue cotton robe
seemed severe and plain in comparison to the gay colored kimonos of
the younger maids.

"This is our housekeeper and cook, O'Haru San," announced Mr.
Campbell. "I shall leave you in her charge now and keep an
appointment."
So saying, Mr. Duncan Campbell kissed his daughter, smiled
delightfully on the company in general and hastened down the walk to
the road, for the villa was in the suburbs of Tokyo.
"Will honorable ladies enter humble, small house," said O'Haru making
an obeisance.
But before they could move an inch, the maids were at their feet deftly
unfastening their shoes.
"What in the world are they doing?" demanded Miss Campbell.
"One never wears shoes in the house, Cousin, don't you remember?
Papa told us so this morning," answered Billie slipping her feet into the
straw sandals provided.
"Perfect nonsense!" exclaimed Miss Campbell, shuffling into the hall in
her loose footgear. "I suppose I shall be expected to sit on the floor and
eat my meals on a door mat," she complained, "and that I positively