I heard him in silence, for while there was much truth in what he said, many times we had argued ourselves into a fever over these questions and never got anywhere.  We could no more agree than we could worship the same God.

For my part, whatever might be the erratic actions of a few of its freakish individuals, my faith in my country and its people is my faith in my God.  I was old fashioned enough to believe every man his brother’s keeper.  There was nothing more for me to say.

For him, intense loyal patriot that he was, his devotion to crumbling old standards was making his fight against the new a bitter and hopeless struggle.  But I had never seen the man so stirred as he was this day.  He went on: 

“What of the teachings for your young?  They may do for your country, but not for mine!  So far as I can see, your boys and girls are left to grow as weeds.  They are as free as the foxes and learn their cunning without their wisdom.  They are without filial piety.  They reverence neither ancestors, the law, nor the great gods.  Neither do they fear their own devil, nor the evil spirits.”

“How do you know this?” I inquired.

“I know because I have seen their comings and goings.  I have heard their free speech before the face of their parents and mothers-in-law.  And I have seen them as visitors in the temples.  Because”—­the man’s voice shook with feeling—­“I have in my house a girl with the blood of the East in her veins and the influence of the West in her life.  She is rebellious, rude and irreverent.  Only this morning, when I gave warning what vengeance the great Buddha would send upon her for impiety, did she not toss her red head and laughingly scoff in my face.”  At this point I arose and rang for tea and my visitor continued:  “Ah, I tremble at her daring.  It is her foreign blood, her training.  It will curse us yet.”

I cheerfully assured him that I thought it would unless he could bring himself to see that the girl was entitled to a few rights as well as himself.  I inquired how things had gone since Zura’s visit to me.  He said she had not often referred to her visit; when she did it was in pleasant terms.  But her attitude to him and his household was as disrespectful as ever and, he thought, more defiant.

He then spoke of a great Buddhist festival that had begun that week and was to continue for several days.  It was very important that each member of his family should attend and take part in every service.  So far Zura had refused to go.  With sketch-book in hand she disappeared from the house every morning.  While he had not seen or heard of her being with the young officer man, he had no doubt she spent her time in his company.

In as few words as possible I told Kishimoto of my interview with Mr. Chalmers, and his promise not to come again nor to further complicate matters.

My listener was more than pleased.  “I thank you,” he said impressively.  “You are a strong-minded woman.”