“Never mind,” exclaimed Nancy impatiently, and hastened from the room, taking her lace-flounced skirt with her.

“Stubborn person,” observed Elinor and once more plunged into her aristocratic labors.

Billie grew more and more restless.  The book Mary was reading aloud was a detective story, lately arrived from America.  It had reached a thrilling point, but Billie could not fasten her attention.

“I think I’ll just be obliged to get out and walk,” she burst out unexpectedly.  “I can’t stand this life of inaction a minute longer.  Don’t stop reading on my account, Mary, dear.  I don’t suppose I could tempt either of you two hot-house plants to come with me, could I?”

“Since it’s just as hot outside as inside, I don’t think you could,” answered Elinor.

“Perhaps Nancy will go,” thought Billie, hastening down the long hall to their joint apartment.

But Nancy was not in the room.  Her lace petticoat had been thrown hastily on the bed with her sewing box.  Billie searched over the entire house for her friend without success.

“Funny,” she thought, slipping on her over-shoes and raincoat and seizing an umbrella from the stand in the passage.

Presently she found herself in the mist-hung garden, and instinctively her steps turned toward the little bridge and the shrine to the Compassionate God.  All the way, she kept thinking: 

“What is Nancy-Bell up to?  Not that,—­surely.  Why should she write letters that way?  Nobody would object to their coming by mail.  It’s just her romantic notions,” her thoughts continued as she reached the bridge.

Taking the curved path to the foot of the small embankment, the next moment Billie came full upon Nancy and Yoritomo Ito talking earnestly together.  There was something rather amusing in their appearance, because down the ribs of their two umbrellas rivulets of water dripped and poured in streams about them.

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” exclaimed Billie, the prey to varying emotions:  embarrassment, hurt feelings, surprise and, it must be confessed, a dash of anger.

“Oh, Billie,” said Nancy, starting violently, “how you frightened me.”

“How do you do, Mr. Ito,” said Billie stiffly.

“How do you do, Miss Campbell.  We seem to be having several unexpected encounters this afternoon.  Here was Miss Brown out for a wet stroll on a day when ladies usually remain indoors, and now you come, too.  American young ladies are very athletic.”

“It isn’t a case of exercise with me, Mr. Ito.  I came out really to find Nancy,” said Billie coldly.

“I shall bid you good afternoon,” answered Yoritomo in his most formal manner.  “I was just taking a short cut.  Pardon my trespassing on your grounds.”

Billie detested untruths and she knew quite well that Yoritomo was not speaking the real truth.  She looked at Nancy reproachfully.

“Good-bye,” she said and turned her back.