At last they came to a small room at the end of the house.  The floor was covered with the usual wicker mats.  The shoji, or sliding partitions, were drawn together, and in the dim mellow light which filtered through these opaque walls they saw Onoye.  She was stretched on the mat which is the usual Japanese bed, her neck on the uncomfortable little pillow bench.  With a murmur of surprise and apology, she pulled herself weakly to her knees and touched her forehead to the floor.

“Pardon, gracious lady,” she said, drawing her kimono closely about her.

“But, child, we didn’t know you were so ill,” said Miss Campbell, gently forcing the girl to lie down on her bed.  “Has the doctor seen you?”

“Yes, gracious lady”

“What is the matter with you?”

Onoye shook her head.

“Not say it in English.”  She touched her forehead.  “Muchly fire.”

“It’s fever, of course,” said Miss Campbell, kneeling beside the sick girl and feeling her forehead.  “I think you had better not stay here, children.  It might be something contagious.”

“Nonsense,” thought Billie; but Miss Campbell was in one of her compelling humors and they retreated obediently, leaving her to hold a conference with O’Haru and to see that everything was done that could be done to alleviate Onoye’s sufferings.  She finally departed, after satisfying herself that Onoye was in the toils of a bilious attack.  But she did not administer calomel as she would have done in ordinary cases of torpid liver.  “I suppose the doctor knows what he is about,” she said, “and there must be a Japanese equivalent to calomel in a country where it rains eternally.”

It was decided that they should take the “Comet” out after lunch.  Miss Campbell wished to visit an apothecary shop and there were other plans for sight-seeing,—­perhaps the magnificent Shiba Temple and the wisteria in the park.  But before they were to go, there were two surprises in store, one for Billie alone and one for all of them.  Just after luncheon while the others were dressing for the trip, Billie, who needed about two minutes for pinning on her hat and slipping on her coat, went back to the stable to take the “Comet” from his garage.  On the way, she passed the room occupied by O’Haru and her daughter.  Not having the least fear of contagion, she entered a back passage of the intricate house, which reminded her of the houses she used to build with cards as a child.  Pushing back the partition she marched into Onoye’s room without announcing herself.

“There’s nothing to knock on, so why knock?” she thought.

Billie surprised the little Japanese girl sitting up examining her arm, which was wrapped in bandages.

“Why, Onoye, I didn’t know you had been injured,” she exclaimed, running over and kneeling beside the sick girl.

Onoye was speechless.  She tried to cover her arm with the sleeve of her kimono and to apologize and bow all at the same time.