THE ANSWER.
The same day that Sinclair had heard of Numè's illness, Cleo Ballard
received a letter from Orito. It was very brief and simple.
"I am coming to see you," it ran, "at seven o'clock to-night, before
your party will start. Then will I ask you for the answer you promised
me."
Mrs. Davis was with her when she received the letter.
"Now, you _must_ be strong, my dear," she said. "See him, and have it
all over."
"Yes, I will," Cleo Ballard said.
Precisely at seven o'clock Takashima Orito presented himself at the
hotel. He had told his father and Omi of his mission there; and the two
old men were waiting in great trepidation for his return.
As he stood, calm but expectant, by the girl's side, waiting for her to
speak first, she felt a sudden fear of him. She did not know what to
say. She knew he was determined to have a direct answer now.
"I don't know what to say." She broke the strained silence desperately.
"I have only one answer to expect," he said, very gently. This answer
silenced the girl. The Japanese came closer to her and looked full in
her face.
"Will you marry with me, Miss Cleo?"
"I--I----" She shrank back, her face scared and averted.
"I cannot!" she said, scarcely above a whisper.
She did not look at him. She felt, rather than saw, that he had grown
suddenly rigid and still. His voice did not falter, however.
"Will you tell me why?" he asked.
"Because--I--am already betrothed--to Mr. Sinclair. Because I never
could love any one but him."
The shadows began to darken in the little sitting-room. The Japanese was
standing almost as if petrified to the spot, immovable, silent. Suddenly
she turned to him.
"Forgive me," she said, and tried to take his hand.
He turned slowly and left the room without one backward look.
The silence of the room frightened her. She went to a window and put her
head out. A sudden vague terror of she knew not what seized her. Why was
everything so still? Why did he leave her like that? If he only had
reproached her--that would have been better;--but to go without a word
to her! It was awful--it was uncanny--cruel. What did he intend to do?
She began to conjure up in her mind all sorts of imaginary terrors. She
told herself that she hated the stillness of the Japanese atmosphere;
she wanted to go away--back to America, where she could forget
everything--where, perhaps, Sinclair would be to her as he had been in
the old days. She had been on a nervous strain all day, and she broke
down utterly.
Mrs. Davis found her walking up and down the room hysterically.
"There, dear--it is all over now,"--she put her arms about the girl and
tried to soothe her.
"No, no, Jen; I feel it is not over. I think--I imagine--Oh, Jenny, I
don't know what to think. He acted so queerly. I don't know what to
think. I dread everything. Jenny," she put her hand feverishly on the
other woman's shoulder, "tell me about these Japanese--can they--do they
feel as deeply as we do?"
"Yes--no; don't let's talk about them, dear. Remember, they are giving
you and the travelers a big party to-night at the hotel. You _must_
dress--it is nearly eight now."