The Motor Maids in Fair Japan | Page 6

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 and curling,
too, causes much admiration. You are very different from the
Japanese."
Again Nancy felt flattered.
"I really believe I am rather pretty," she thought. What she said was:
"You are very kind, Mr. Ito, but I am sure I think the Japanese girls are
just as pretty as American girls. Little Onoye, our maid, is charming.
She is a perfect picture."
For the rest of the day, however, vain Nancy was enveloped in a rosy
cloud of self-satisfaction. It was pleasing to be admired and still more
pleasing to feel that the admiration was justified.
The truth is, that admiration was quite as stimulating to Nancy as it is
to the rest of us, and when she realized that the young Japanese had
fallen an instant victim to her charms, she felt some pardonable pride in
the power of her blue eyes and bright curls.
By this time the others had returned to the pagoda-like summer house.
"Come, Nancy, dear," floated Miss Campbell's voice across the garden.
She was too careful a chaperone to permit one of her girls to wander at
dusk with a strange young Japanese.
Nancy quickened her pace. Nevertheless, she felt a little impatient with
all these restrictions.
"I am almost eighteen. I suppose I might be trusted to look after myself

occasionally," she thought with some irritation.
"May I not see you again to-morrow, Miss Brown?" Yoritomo was
asking.
"I am afraid you'll have to ask Miss Campbell."
"It is now almost the American dinner hour," he went on thoughtfully,
looking at his watch. "If I should be strolling to-morrow at this time
down by the bridge, it would be very pleasant. We could have a few
words together."
"But--" began Nancy, and the voices of her friends interrupted her.
They had paused near a great bush of azaleas in full bloom. Almost
over their heads the silver crescent of the new moon hung poised like a
fairy scimitar. It was exquisite and unreal. Nancy felt somehow out of
place in the lovely picture, while the young Japanese, standing intense
and rigid beside her, was as much a part of the Oriental garden as the
stone lantern and the fragrant spice bush near the path. Even his blue
serge European suit seemed to have lost its values in the deepening
shadows.
"If I come every day to see you, there would be great comment," he
said in a low voice. "But often I shall wait on the bridge about this
time."
It was only a little time ago that Nancy's mother had lengthened her
little daughter's skirts from shoe tops to ankles. The line of the old hem
was still noticeable in some of her summer frocks. Just six months
since, Nancy had tucked up the bunch of curls into a Psyche knot and
transformed the ribbon bow into a velvet bandeau. Since she had been
old enough to go to parties she had had boy admirers who had said
sweet things to her. But this was quite different, and Nancy, almost
eighteen, and capable of looking after herself, felt suddenly frightened.
"I--I must hurry," she said, and turning she ran as fast as she could up
the garden path nearly colliding with Billie and Mary who had come to

look for her.
"Why, Nancy, you are chasing along like a scared rabbit," cried Billie.
"Has anything happened to you?"
"Oh, no. I thought we had better run because it was so late," she
answered breathlessly, while Yoritomo, following close behind, calm
and collected, bade them a formal good night and hurried over to the
summer house to pay his respects to Miss Campbell and her cousin.
Nancy decided that night not to tell Billie, her intimate confidante,
what the Japanese had said to her. The walls were too thin, she thought.
Besides, she was curious to know if Yoritomo would be on the bridge
the next afternoon. Just how she intended to find this out,