Then he spoke rapidly in Japanese to his mother, who smiled and clasped her hands with joy, as if heaven could not have bestowed a greater gift than the privilege to entertain these delightful foreigners.

“And are you the head of the family, Mr. Ito?” asked Miss Campbell.

“No, my father takes first place.  He is a tea merchant in Tokyo.  I have also a younger brother who works with him.  He did not wish to go to America with me.”

At this moment a human doll baby toddled into the room.  His round little head was bald except for a thick mat of hair on top.  His beady black eyes gleamed like polished glass.  He wore a dark red kimono and his feet and legs were bare.

“Oh, the darling,” cried Mary whose love of children overcame any shyness she might feel before strangers.  The three Japanese were pleased at the attention the little person created.  The girls gathered around him in a circle while he stood perfectly still regarding them curiously, as if they were some new strange birds which had dropped into his room from the skies.

Yoritomo also was pleased.  He took the little fellow’s hand in his and led him from one to another while his relatives stood in a beaming row.

Children are called “treasure-flowers” in Japan, and are petted and spoiled quite as much as American children.

“What a cunning little baby brother, Mr. Ito,” said Nancy.  “What is his name?”

“Kenkyo,” answered Yoritomo.  Suddenly he turned and spoke to one of the women and the “treasure-flower” was led from the room.

“Oh, don’t send him away,” objected Miss Campbell.  “I haven’t had half a chance to see him yet.”

“He is not dressed to see distinguished visitors,” answered Yoritomo, quickly.  “My mother would like to show you some of her embroidery if you would care to see it.”

So the subject of little Kenkyo was dropped and Madame Ito, hurrying away, returned in a moment with an armful of linen and silk on which she had worked the most wonderful floral designs.

In the meantime, the faithful ’riksha man, Komatsu, had trotted all the way through floods of rain to the Campbell villa half a mile distant, and now returned in company with O’Haru.  Between them they carried a covered basket containing five mackintoshes, five pairs of overshoes and five umbrellas.

Komatsu was very angry with O’Haru.  He explained to Miss Campbell: 

“I not wish, but she coming without not wish.”

He pointed accusingly at the sad old face.  O’Haru, dripping and imperturbable, stood on the piazza near the entrance to the villa.

“That was very good of you, O’Haru; we appreciate your devotion,” said Miss Campbell, but the housekeeper did not appear to grasp all this fine English.  She seemed to be taking in every detail of the room and its occupants.  Nobody took any notice of her.  All the ladies and the servants were engaged in helping the guests on with their rain coats and overshoes.  Mme. Ito insisted on doing up their hats in paper bundles.