“But what does she do?” asked Mary.

“She does all the work, makes all the arrangements, engages the boxes and the ’rikshas, orders the dinner, tells you how to act; in fact, does everything any good elder sister would do to oblige a little brother.”

The others smiled at this droll notion but there was something rather touching, too, about the simple title of elder sister or Nesan for this efficient and reliable individual who took all the burdens on her own shoulders.  As a matter of fact a Nesan is the proprietor of a tea house and her business is to get up entertainments.

“And it is for this reason,” continued Mr. Buxton, “that I am able to ask all of you for the honor of your company to the theater to-morrow at three and later to dinner.  I could never have undertaken it alone, but having been provided with an efficient relative older and wiser than I am, although she looks to be under thirty, I feel no uneasiness whatever.”

“I am inclined to accept your reluctant invitation on the spot, Buxton,” laughed Mr. Campbell, “for self and family.”

“I didn’t intend it to appear reluctant,” answered the Englishman.  “I only wanted to assure you that if you would do me the honor of coming to the entertainment, all things would be correctly carried out according to Japanese etiquette and there would not be a hitch in the whole affair.  Will you come?”

“We shall be delighted, Mr. Buxton,” answered Miss Campbell.

“I thought you would,” he added.  “Indeed, I was so certain of it that the little Nesan has already got a list of the guests and the whole thing has been arranged.”

“And to make assurance doubly sure, you thought you would just mention the matter to us?” asked Mr. Campbell, who enjoyed teasing this rather odd and amusing old bachelor.

“How do we dress?” asked Nancy.

“I never thought to ask the Nesan how the ladies should dress.  But if you take my advice, I should say comfortably.  That is, if you can.  I believe a woman’s clothes are never really comfortable.”

“Mine are,” broke in Billie, poised on the railing of the summer house swinging her feet carelessly.

“Would you have us dress like men?” demanded Miss Campbell indignantly.

“No indeed, Madam,” answered the bachelor, “but in your present costume, you must admit that it would be difficult to sit on the floor.”

“But I don’t wish to sit on the floor,” exclaimed the spinster.  “It’s a perfectly absurd custom.  Besides, you are edging away from the main point—­trying to draw out of the—­”

“There will be no chairs to-morrow,” interrupted the other, blinking his eyes like a wise old bird.  “And,” he continued as he took his departure, “neither will there be any knives and forks.”

“I shall take mine along, then,” called Miss Campbell, whose discussions with the bachelor kept them in a constant state of amusement.