“I suppose Papa thought the red coat was too gaudy,” said Billie, who was indeed just a little tearful over the loss of that cheerful and familiar scarlet dress which would never again flash along the highways like a scarlet bird.  “But he’s the same old ‘Comet’ inside,” she added hastily.  “You couldn’t change his noble disposition if you painted him sea green.”

“I think he looks beautiful,” put in Elinor.  “He’s so neat and elegant in buff and blue.  It’s like a livery.”

The other girls laughed because Elinor’s speech was so characteristic.

“Oh, you regal young person,” exclaimed Nancy.  “Your imagination doesn’t stop at anything short of liveried retinues of servants.  There is no doubt you were a royal princess in a previous existence.  And suppose you are a fat old pug in another life, like Nedda!”

“I am sure Nedda is waited on hand and foot,” cried Elinor.  “She has a maid who follows her around with a cushion and a silk cover.”

Komatsu, standing at the side of the motor, grinned with amusement.

“They are foolish children, aren’t they, Komatsu?” observed Miss Campbell, climbing into her accustomed seat.

Nedda, hearing her name mentioned, wobbled on her uncertain old legs to the edge of the piazza and whined piteously.

“Go back to your mat, you pathetic, pampered old great grandmother,” called Nancy.

The aged animal turned obediently and curled herself on her cushion.  Then she lifted her wrinkled, snub-nosed face to watch the departing motorists.

“She does look like our Irish cook’s grandmother,” said Nancy.

Everybody laughed gaily and the feelings regarding the “Comet’s” new blue coat were dispelled.  Nedda had been a welcome interruption.

“Papa always does the right thing,” Billie announced presently.  “I’m glad he did it now.  I was a little hurt at first, of course.  But I understand perfectly what his reasons were.  Everybody will be looking out for a red motor car that runs over people and they’ll never recognize the ‘Comet’ It’s just as if he wore a disguise.”

The dark blue car was, as a matter of fact, not nearly so conspicuous as he skimmed along over the road, and it was the very wisest thing Billie’s father could have done to change the color.  Probably every man, woman and child in the multitude that had clustered around the car that day on Arakawa Ridge would be constantly on the look-out for the red machine, and never glance twice at the blue one.

“I do feel so inconspicuous and quiet and lady-like,” remarked Billie when some time later they left the motor car in charge of Komatsu and went in to visit Shiba Temple in Shiba Park.  These chapels are mostly the tombs of the Shoguns who for many years were powerful nobles and who really ruled Japan in place of the Emperor, a mere figurehead in those days.  The magnificent tombs they built for themselves are now the very pride of Tokyo.  Within the great red gates of the main temple, upheld with scarlet columns, wheeled flights of pigeons quite tame.  The girls bought packages of grain from little booths and fed them and presently one of the pretty creatures perched on Mary’s wrist and ate from her hand.