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.
"Look here, Zura," I ventured, "you'll miss a joyfully good time if you
don't go. The country people swarm to these festivals, and babies are as
thick as ants. You'll see more pictures than you can paint in a
life-time. There are queer things to buy and funny things to eat. The
fire-walking ceremony is wonderful."