* * * * *
In the evening Page Hanaford came to dinner. When I told him Zura had
returned to her home, the smile on his face faded. It spread to his lips
and eyes as I rehearsed the close of my interview with Mr. Chalmers.
"I sincerely hope that danger is passed," I said earnestly.
"I would not consider Mr. Chalmers dangerous by nature, only by
thoughtlessness," remarked Page; "his bravado needs seasoning like his
youth. Will you not let me help you, Miss Gray?" he exclaimed as that
lady came in almost smothered in the packages her frail arms held.
"Oh! it's just grand--how many nice people there are in the world," the
little missionary said enthusiastically, when relieved of her burdens
and seated. "That druggist gentleman was lovely. I bought a jar of
vaseline, and he found out I could talk English. Then I found out he was
trying to talk it; I told him about my hospital, and he gave me all
these splendid medicines I brought in. There's court-plaster and
corn-salve and quinine and tooth-powder and a dozen milk bottles for the
babies, and plenty of cans to put things in. That's a good start for my
drug store."
"The drug store and the patients, but the building!" I exclaimed. "Only
a dream! I don't want to be a cold-water dasher but, Jane Gray, where
will your visions lead you?"
"To Heaven, Miss Jenkins; that's where they were meant to lead. My
hospital is a dream now because it is not built. But it's going to be
soon; I know it. Didn't that splendid Japanese man clothe and educate
hundreds of orphans for years on faith, pure and simple? Of course my
little hospital is on the way! What better proof does anybody want than
the story of Mr. Hoda's Orphan Asylum?"
"Give us the story," urged Page, sinking into a big chair, after he had
made Jane comfortable.
"Indeed I will. I love to tell it for Mr. Hoda certainly sold his soul
for the highest price."
"When he was a very young and ambitious man, doing without food to get
his medical education, three homeless babies fell into his hands. He and
his mother lived on a little less and made room for the children. Soon
more waifs drifted in. Mr. Hoda couldn't turn them away, but he wondered
where he was to get the food for them. Then he had a vision and a dream.
In it a great famine was sweeping the land. He saw a Man beautiful, but
sorrowful, toiling up a steep mountain, with His arms full of helpless
children and more clinging to His white garments. This wonderful Being
turned and saw the great pity in Mr. Hoda's eyes, then called back,
'Help me care for the many that are left. I will never forsake you nor
them.' After that, Mr. Hoda knew what his work was. He fought so hard to
follow his vision he burned all his doctor's books for fear he might be
tempted. He had gone hungry to buy those books. A long time after, Mr.
Hoda didn't care about them, for his vision brought him the
beautifulest faith. He knew food and clothing for the children would
come, and often there hasn't been a bite nor a penny in the house and
almost time for the dinner bell to ring, when from somewhere food or the
way to buy it, would come pouring in as though that Orphan Asylum was
built in a land filled with manna and flowing with honey. Mr. Hoda and
his flock of orphans have waited but never wanted. I'm waiting; but I am
just as sure of my dream as I am of my friends."
"Of course you are," encouraged Page. "Talk of removing mountains! Why,
a faith like that would set a whole Himalayan range to dancing. You are
a great little missionary, Miss Gray."
"Thank you, Mr. Page; missionaries are not great. We can't help living
what we believe. Wouldn't you be very happy if you were as certain and
sure of all your dreams as we are?"
"Happy!" cried the boy, getting up and walking about. "I'd give a
life-time to know--never mind. Your hospital will come true. When it
does we will ask the city to decorate as it is doing to-day for some big
festival. My! the streets look like bargain day in Christmas trees," he
ended, recovering some of his light spirits.
"That's so. There is a festival. What is it, Miss Jenkins?"
I explained the meaning of the festival, which was more strictly
observant of ritual and old customs than any other of the year, and I
told of Kishimoto San's invitation to me.
Miss Gray exclaimed anxiously, "But you are not going?" Jane was slow in
shaking off the limitations of the doctrine that branded all religions
in a foreign country as idolatrous and contaminating.