THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOVE.
After dinner Numè resumed her seat by Mrs. Davis, while her husband took
Koto through the house, glad of an opportunity to air his limited
knowledge of Japanese; for Numè seldom permitted them to address her
save in English, pretending to make great fun of their Japanese in order
to make them speak English to her. They, on the other hand, always
praised her English extravagantly.
"I want you to promise me, Numè, that you will never tell any man you
care for him again, unless it is Orito."
"Why shall I _promise_?" the girl asked.
"Because it is not the right thing to say to any one."
"But if I luf----"
"Nonsense; you are not going to love except as all good Japanese girls
do--after your marriage."
"But you say one time thad is _shame_ for me thad I only luf _after_ I
marry."
"Well, I have been thinking it over," the other answered, a trifle
rattled--"and--and really, you are all so happy with things that way I
wouldn't advise your changing the custom."
"Bud Japanese girl luf a _liddle_ before they marry. After marriage big
bit. Koto say geisha girl luf _big_ bit _before_ they marry. Koto luf
vaery much Japanese boy in Tokyo----"
"That is good, and are they to be married?"
"Ah, no; because he worg _vaery_ hard to mag' money, but Koto say mag'
_vaery_ liddle money, so she come worg' for me, and save--_afterward_
they marry _vaery_ habby."
Numè looked at the American lady with eyes full of wistful wondering: "I
thing' I lig' vaery much thad I luf and be habby too. Numè nod know thad
she luf Orito _vaery_ much--Ess, she luf him _vaery_ much,
bud--sometimes I thing' I nod _luf_ him _too_ much; sometimes I thing'
mebbe Orito nod luf _me_ too much."
"Of course, you do love him, goosie. Now, don't begin thinking you
don't, because one often convinces oneself of things that are not
actually so."
"Bud I do _nod_ thing' much of Orito," the girl contradicted; and added,
shyly: "I thing', instead, of Mr. Sinka--but I not lig'--No! Numè nod
lig' Mr. Sinka;" she shook her head violently.
Mrs. Davis called all the argument she could to her aid.
"You ought not to think of him, Numè; that is wicked, because he belongs
to some one else."
The girl's face had lost its wistfulness. Now it was arch and
complacent.
"Perhaps Numè is _vaery_ wigged," she smiled. "Koto say all girls thad
are habby are wigged."
"Koto is a bad girl if she told you that. Don't let her teach you about
the geisha girls, dear--Er--every one knows they are not a good class,
at all."
Numè tossed her head provokingly. "All the _same_, Numè still _thing'_
of Mr. Sinka."
Her persistence astounded Mrs. Davis. She felt almost like shaking the
girl; and yet there was something so sweet and innocent in her openly
acknowledging that she thought of Sinclair.
She had not been out much, nor had she seen many people since the night
of the party. Therefore, it was quite natural that, as Sinclair had made
such an impression on her that night, she should think about him a great
deal. Moreover, Koto, with a geisha girl's usual flippancy and love of
anything savoring of romance, had perhaps fostered this feeling. The
girls had discussed him.
Ever since he had told his father of his love for the American girl,
Orito had been very kind to her, though sometimes Numè fancied he wished
to tell her something. Her interest in Sinclair had not spoiled her
loyalty to Orito, which she had felt and cultivated all these years.
Koto had encouraged her in the idea of flirting with the American. That
was all. She never for an instant thought of breaking off her betrothal
with Orito. She had grown used to that, and, unlike Orito, she had not
been in America, so that she still was Japanese enough to be obedient.
Besides, she really did love Orito in a way that she herself did not
comprehend. Because, although it pleased her very much to be with him,
to chat and tell him all the news of the neighborhood in which they
lived, ask his advice and opinion on different subjects, yet her mind
kept constantly wandering from him, and she could call up no genuine
warmth or enthusiasm in her affection for him. The truth was, her love
for him was merely that of a young sister for a very dear brother, one
from whom she had been parted for a long time.