“And the flags waved and the grasses drew their blades, and the trees barked and the cow slips and the bull rushes—­” cried Billie.  And they all burst into absurd laughter, that is, all except Nancy, who felt immensely remote from this foolish, pleasant talk.

“It will never do for you to be a teacher, Mary, dearest,” said Elinor.  “You’d simply fade and droop in a schoolroom.  We’ll just have to look up some other occupation for you.  If I had my way with Providence you should do nothing but play in a garden all your days in a land of perpetual summer.”

“I am afraid I should have to pass into another world to accomplish anything so wonderful,” laughed Mary.  “It sounds a good deal like Paradise to me, and I haven’t learned to play my harp yet.  I would never be admitted into such a beautiful garden until I had learned to play real music on the harp, and not discords.”

Mary often spoke in metaphors like this, which half puzzled, half amused her friends.

“I never heard you strike a discord, Mary, dear,” Nancy observed sadly, when Billie interrupted: 

“Canst tell me who that grand personage is riding up the avenue?”

In a jinriksha drawn by one man, while two others ran in front to clear the way of imaginary obstacles, since there were no real ones, sat a magnificent person clad in full Japanese regalia.  He wore a robe of dark rich colors, but the girls could not see his face, which was hidden by a parasol.

“I think Nankipooh has come to call,” whispered Billie, as the vehicle drew near.

The girls hid themselves behind a clump of shrubbery and peeped through the branches.

“He’s bringing gifts,” whispered Elinor.

The ’riksha had drawn up at the piazza and the two runners, after the personage in fancy dress had descended, lifted out a very aged and no doubt extremely costly dwarfed apple tree growing in a green vase, and a lacquered box.

One of the ever-watchful domestics opened the door and into the hall stalked the visitor, followed by his retainers.

“I think he must be a messenger from the Emperor, nothing less,” said Billie.  “He’s so awfully grand.”

“Perhaps he’s the Mikado himself,” said Mary.

The others laughed again and even Nancy forgot her troubles and joined in.

“I declare I feel as if I had settled down to live on a Japanese fan,” continued Billie.  “Everything is like a decoration.  I can’t imagine anything really serious ever happening, it’s all so gay and pretty and the people are like dolls.”

“Here comes one of your live dolls,” observed Mary, pointing to Onoye, who was hastening toward them down the path, the skirts of her flowered kimono blowing about her ankles as she walked.

She made straight for the group of girls and falling on her knees before Nancy, touched her forehead to the ground.

“What is it, Onoye?” asked Nancy, blushing and paling and blushing again with some hidden emotion.