He doubtless argues, if he gives it any thought, that if I could I would not dare interfere.  And then I am so absorbed in color-prints!  So I am, and, I pray Heaven, in some way to his undoing.  The child has no other friend.  Shrinkingly she told me of her one attempt to make friends with some high-class people, and the uncompromising rebuff she had received upon their discovering she was an Eurasian.  The pure aristocrats seldom lower the social bars to those of mixed blood.  I wonder, Mate, if the ghost of failure, who was her father, could see the inheritance of inevitable suffering he has left his child, what his message would be to those who would recklessly dare a like marriage?

Sada goes to Kioto in the morning.  She promises not to show resistance, but to keep quiet and alert, writing me at every opportunity.

I am sure Uncle’s delight in securing so rich a prize as Hara will burst forth in a big wedding-feast and many rich clothes for the trousseau.  I hope so.  Preparation will take time.  I would rather gain time than treasure.

I put Sada to bed.  Tucked her in and cuddled her to sleep as if she had been my own daughter.

There she lies now.  Her face startlingly white against the mass of black hair.  The only sign of her troubled day is a frequent half-sob and the sadness of her mouth, which is constantly reading the riot act to her laughing eyes in the waking hours.

Poor girl!  She is only one of many whose hopes wither like rose-leaves in a hot sun when met by authority in the form of tyrannical relatives.

The arched sky over the mountain of “Two Leaves” is all a-shimmer with the coming day.  Thatched roof and bamboo grove are daintily etched against the amber dawn.  Lights begin to twinkle and thrifty tradesmen cheerfully call their wares.

It is a land of peace, a country and people of wondrous charm, but incomprehensible is the spirit of some of the laws that rule its daughters.

Mate dear: 

One of my girls, when attached with the blues, invariably says in her written apology for a poor lesson, “Please excuse my frivolous with your imagination, for my heart is warmly.”  So say I.

I am sending you the crepes and the kimono you asked for.  Write for something else.  I want an excuse to spend another afternoon in the two-by-four shop, with a play-garden attached, that should be under a glass case in a jewelry store.  The proprietor gives me a tea-party and tells me a few of his troubles every time I go to his store.  Formerly he kept two shops exclusively for hair ornaments and ribbons.

He did a thriving trade with schoolgirls.  Recently an order went out from the mighty maker of school laws to the effect that lassies, high and low, must not indulge in such foolish extravagances as head ornaments.  The ribbon market went to smash.  The old man could not give his stock away.  He stored his goods and went to selling high-priced crepes, which everybody was permitted to wear.  Make another request quickly.  I would rather shop than think.