e to play with?"

An hour later, attracted by much noise, I walked out into the garden
and saw Zura with a clean, but much-patched baby on her back, one in
each arm, and a half-dozen trailing behind. The game was "Here we go
'round the mulberry bush," sung in English and played in Japanese.

"Oh, Miss Jenkins," cried the merry leader, "come quick. We need a bush
and you will make such a nice fat one."

Before I knew what was happening I was drawn into the mad frolic,
reckless of all the work piled up on my desk in the study. I thought
maybe I was growing feeble-minded, but the way to it was delightful, if
foolish.

* * * * *

Strangely enough, during this time Page Hanaford did not appear. We
explained to Zura that he was present the day she made her brief call.

"Oh! do you mean the day I flew into the 'Misty Star' and right out
again? Yes, I remember his outlines. Where did you find him? Looked more
like a sure-enough man than anything I've seen in Japan."

Jane monopolized the talk at breakfast that morning, describing to Zura
the good looks of Page Hanaford and the charm of his romantic story.

Zura seemed more amused by Jane's manner and the funny twist in her
tongue than impressed by her description.

Miss Gray finally turned to me and urged once again, "Do let's have him
to-night. I'll get the dinner."

Zura clapped her hands and said eagerly, "Oh, let's do! I haven't been
to a party in a century. If Miss Gray will be the 'chefess,' I'll be
assistant potato peeler. I can make the best salad. It's called 'Salade
de la Marquise de Chateaubriand'; but it won't hurt you. It is only
peanuts and cabbage. Daddy and I used to feast on it once a week."

There was no resisting her enthusiasm, and I sent a note to Page
Hanaford asking him to come that evening for dinner.

After all there was nothing I could label a reason why he and Zura
should not meet.

Domesticity was the last thing anybody would suspect a characteristic of
either Jane or Zura. Not knowing what the result would be, I gave the
cook a holiday and turned the incongruous pair loose to do as they
pleased in kitchen and dining-room.

All the afternoon I was busy with my writing, but from time to time
there penetrated through the closed doors of my study sounds of
swift-moving feet and gay laughter. The old house seemed infected with
youth. Contact with it was sweet. Some of my dreams were coming true. I
found mys