ir garden,
their dwarf trees, and their breed of cocker spaniels. They took
their social duties lightly, though their home was a Mecca for
needy relatives on the search for jobs. They gave generously; they
entertained hospitably. Good-humour ruled the household; for husband
and wife were old partners and devoted friends.

Count Saito brought his nephew and secretary, a most agreeable young
man, to see Asako. The Count said,--

"Asa Chan, I want you to tell Mr. Sakabe all about the Fujinami house
and the way of life there."

So Asako told her story to this interested listener. Fortunately,
perhaps, she could not read the Japanese newspapers; for most of her
adventures reappeared in the daily issues almost word for word. From
behind the scenes, Count Saito was directing the course of the famous
trial which had come to be known as the Fujinami Affair. For the Count
had certain political scores of his own to pay off; and Asako proved
to be a godsend.

Tanaka was tried for murder; but it was established that he had killed
Ito in defending his mistress's honour; and the court let him off
with a year's hard labour. But the great Fujinami bribery case which
developed out of the murder trial, ruined a Cabinet Minister, a local
governor, and a host of minor officials. It reacted on the Yoshiwara
regulations. The notoriety of the case has gone far towards putting
an end to public processions of _oiran_, and to the display of
prostitutes in the windows of their houses. Indeed, it is probably
only a question of time for the great pleasure quarters to be closed
down, and for vice to be driven into secrecy. Mr. Fujinami Gentaro
was sentenced to three years' imprisonment for causing bribes to be
distributed.

Meanwhile Countess Saito had been in correspondence with Lady
Everington in England. On one bright March morning, she came into
Asako's room with a small flowerpot in her hands.

"See, Asa Chan," she said in her strange hoarse voice, "the first
flower of the New Year, the plum-blossom. It is the flower of hope and
patience. It blooms when the snow is still on the ground, and before
it has any green leaves to protect it."

"It smells sweet," said Asako.

Her hostess quoted the famous poem of the exiled Japanese statesman,
Sukawara no Michizane,--

"When the East wind blows,
Send your perfume to me,
Flower of the plum;
Even if your master is absent,
Do not forget the spring."

"Asako dear," Countess Saito