Meanwhile Countess Saito had been in correspondence with Lady Everington in England.  On one bright March morning, she came into Asako’s room with a small flowerpot in her hands.

“See, Asa Chan,” she said in her strange hoarse voice, “the first flower of the New Year, the plum-blossom.  It is the flower of hope and patience.  It blooms when the snow is still on the ground, and before it has any green leaves to protect it.”

“It smells sweet,” said Asako.

Her hostess quoted the famous poem of the exiled Japanese statesman, Sukawara no Michizane,—­

  “When the East wind blows,
  Send your perfume to me,
  Flower of the plum;
  Even if your master is absent,
  Do not forget the spring.”

“Asako dear,” Countess Saito continued, “would you like to go to England?”

Asako’s heart leaped.

“Oh yes!” she answered gladly.

Her hostess sighed reproachfully.  She had tried to make life so agreeable for her little visitor; yet from the tone of her voice it was clear that Japan would never be home for her.

“Marchioness Samejima and I,” continued the Japanese lady, “have been arranging for a party of about twenty-five Red Cross nurses to visit England and France.  They are all very good, clever girls from noble families.  We wish to show sympathy of Japan for the poor soldiers who are suffering so much; and we wish to teach our girls true facts about war and how to manage a hospital in war-time.  We thought you might like to go as guide and interpreter.”

It needed no words to show how joyfully Asako accepted this proposal.  Besides, she had heard from Geoffrey.  A letter had arrived thanking her for her Christmas gift.

“Little darling Asako,” her husband had written, “It was so sweet of you and so like you to think of me at Christmas time.  I hope that you are very happy and having a jolly good time.  It is very rotten in England just now with the war going on.  It had broken out before I reached home; and I joined up at once with my old regiment.  We have had a very lively time.  About half of my brother officers have been killed; and I am a colonel now.  Also, incidentally, I have become Lord Brandan.  My father died at the end of last year.  Poor old father!  This war is a ghastly business; but we have got them beat now.  I shall be sorry in a way when it is over; for it gives me plenty to do and to think about.  Reggie Forsyth is with his regiment in Egypt.  Lady Everington is writing to you.  I am in the north of France, and doing quite a lot of parley-voo.  Is there any chance of your coming to England?  God bless you, Asako darling.  Write to me soon.

“Your loving Geoffrey.”

With this letter folded near her heart, Asako was hardly in a mood to admire plum-blossoms.  It was with difficulty that she could summon sufficient attention for give the little Saito children their daily lessons in English and French.