“Yes,” they would say about the land of their exile, “it is very picturesque.”

But their faces, lined or pale, their bitterness and their reticence, told of years of strain, laboriously money-earning, in lands where relaxations are few and forced, where climatic conditions are adverse, where fevers lurk, and where the white minority are posted like soldiers in a lonely fort, ever suspicious, ever on the watch.

* * * * *

The most faithful of Asako’s bodyguard was a countryman of her own, Viscount Kamimura, the son of a celebrated Japanese statesman and diplomat, who, after completing his course at Cambridge, was returning to his own country for the first time after many years.

He was a shy gentle youth, very quiet and refined, a little effeminate, even, in his exaggerated gracefulness and in his meticulous care for his clothes and his person.  He avoided all company except that of the Barringtons, probably because a similarity in circumstances formed a bond between him and his country-woman.

He had a high, intellectual forehead, the beautiful deep brown eyes of Asako, curling, sarcastic lips, a nose almost aquiline but starting a fraction of an inch too low between his eyes.  He had read everything, he remembered everything, and he had played lawn tennis for his university.

He was returning to Japan to be married.  When Geoffrey asked him who his fiancee was, he replied that he did not know yet, but that his relatives would tell him as soon as ever he arrived in Japan.

“Haven’t you got any say in the matter?” asked the Englishman.

“Oh yes,” he answered, “If I actually dislike her, I need not marry her; but, of course, the choice is limited, so I must try not to be too hard to please.”

Geoffrey thought that it must be because of his extreme aristocracy that so few maidens in Japan were worthy of his hand.  But Asako asked the question,—­

“Why is the choice so small?”

“You see,” he said, “there are not many girls in Japan who can speak both English and French, and as I am going into the Diplomatic Service and shall leave Japan again shortly, that is an absolute necessity; besides, she must have a very good degree from her school.”

Geoffrey could hardly restrain himself from laughing.  This idea of choosing a wife like a governess for her linguistic accomplishments seemed to him exceedingly comic.

“You don’t mind trusting other people,” he said, “to arrange your marriage for you?”

“Certainly not,” said the young Japanese, “they are my own relatives, and they will do their best for me.  They are all older than I am, and they have had the experience of their own marriages.”

“But,” said Geoffrey, “when you saw your friends in England choosing for themselves, and falling in love and marrying for love’s sake—?”

“Some of them chose for themselves and married barmaids and divorced persons, just for the reason that they were in love and uncontrolled.  So they brought shame on their families, and are probably now very unhappy.  I think they would have done better if they had let their relatives choose for them.”