The maid, who answered my summons, said the family would soon be ready to start; the hairdresser had finished; the ceremonial obis were being tied for the madams; the Dana San had about completed his devotions before the household shrine.  Would I bring my most august body into the living-room and hang my honorable self upon the floor?

I complied with the request and found Zura alone.

Considering the strained relations at our last parting and the solemnity of the present occasion, she greeted me with a flippancy that was laughable.  “Oh, here’s Miss Jenkins!  Welcome to our happy home, and I certainly wish you joy on this jaunt.”

“Are you not going with us?” I asked, observing that she carried in her hand a paint-box as well as her hat.

“Not I,” she laughed.  “I’d picnic with Mrs. Satan and her family first.  But do come in.  The ogre awaits you.  One of the two witches has just had a spell.”

“Which one?” I inquired, putting into my question every inviting tone at my command.  I was determined to get on terms of friendliness with this girl.  Had not I in the long ago longed for liberty and for life as I had never craved orthodox salvation?  Not even to myself had I acknowledged how strong an appeal to my love of fair play, was Zura’s frank rebellion against being reduced to an emotionless creature guaranteed to move at the command of her Masters.

All her warfare had been in the open.  At no time in her visit to me, did she mention the unhappy conditions at her home nor voice complaints of its inmates.

Undisciplined, untrained as she was, there was in her nature a certain reserve which compelled admiration.  When not on the defensive for what she considered her rights, she had a decided sweetness that drew me irresistibly.  I did not approve of her methods, but my sympathy was deep for this child of freedom forced to live in the painful restrictions of a conservative Japanese family.

I was beginning to see that Zura would break long before she would bend.  To break at all meant disaster.  To break alone meant ruin.  She was of my country, my people.  Without further ado I arrayed myself on the side of the one who had four against her.

Before she answered my question, she looked at me as a chained creature might eye a strange hand to see if it were outstretched for a caress or a blow.  Having decided, she went on, “The ancientest one.  Some red lilies I carried brought on the fit.  An hour ago I gathered a few from the rice fields and took them to my room.  When the old dame saw their crimson petals she began to foam at the mouth and splutter a lot of nonsense about the flowers being tongues of flame; she said they would set the house on fire and burn us all to a cinder.  If I thought that I’d bring a cartload, and then run.  She took them away and threw them in the hot bath.  The lovely things shriveled like scalded baby hands.  About then, my august grandfather arrived on the scene.  He ordered me to put on Japanese dress and come to their old festival.  I’ve planned otherwise, and I won’t do it.”  She put on her hat and stabbed it with a long pin.