continued, "would you like to go to
England?"

Asako's heart leaped.

"Oh yes!" she answered gladly.

Her hostess sighed reproachfully. She had tried to make life so
agreeable for her little visitor; yet from the tone of her voice it
was clear that Japan would never be home for her.

"Marchioness Samejima and I," continued the Japanese lady, "have been
arranging for a party of about twenty-five Red Cross nurses to visit
England and France. They are all very good, clever girls from noble
families. We wish to show sympathy of Japan for the poor soldiers who
are suffering so much; and we wish to teach our girls true facts about
war and how to manage a hospital in war-time. We thought you might
like to go as guide and interpreter."

It needed no words to show how joyfully Asako accepted this proposal.
Besides, she had heard from Geoffrey. A letter had arrived thanking
her for her Christmas gift.

"Little darling Asako," her husband had written, "It was so sweet of
you and so like you to think of me at Christmas time. I hope that
you are very happy and having a jolly good time. It is very rotten
in England just now with the war going on. It had broken out before
I reached home; and I joined up at once with my old regiment. We have
had a very lively time. About half of my brother officers have been
killed; and I am a colonel now. Also, incidentally, I have become Lord
Brandan. My father died at the end of last year. Poor old father! This
war is a ghastly business; but we have got them beat now. I shall be
sorry in a way when it is over; for it gives me plenty to do and
to think about. Reggie Forsyth is with his regiment in Egypt. Lady
Everington is writing to you. I am in the north of France, and doing
quite a lot of _parley-voo_. Is there any chance of your coming to
England? God bless you, Asako darling. Write to me soon.

"Your loving Geoffrey."

With this letter folded near her heart, Asako was hardly in a mood
to admire plum-blossoms. It was with difficulty that she could summon
sufficient attention for give the little Saito children their daily
lessons in English and French.

Long rides in the motor-car through the reviving country-side to the
splendid gorge of Miyanoshita or to the beaches of Oiso, where Count
Saito had his summer villa, long days of play with the children in the
hanging garden, the fascinating companionship of the dwarf trees and
the black spaniels, and the welcome absence of espionage a