void those detestable young Americans, whose diabolical laughter had
rung in his ears all night. The wounds received by vanity are never
serious, but they are very hard to heal, and as Percival stopped ashore
in this strange land he felt that he was the most unhappy of mortals.

"Call a hansom," he demanded impatiently of Judson, who stood grinning
at the queer sights on the hatoba.

"There ain't none, sir."

"Of course; I forgot. But how are we to get to the hotel?"

"Carn't say, sir, unless we go in a couple of them perambulators."

Percival took an instant dislike to a country that forced him to ride
in a ridiculous vehicle, pulled by a small bare-legged brown man in a
mushroom hat. All the way to the hotel he was unhappy in the conviction
that he was making a spectacle of himself.

The rooms which he had engaged in advance were not satisfactory, and it
was not until he had inspected all the suites that were unoccupied that
he decided upon one that commanded a view of the bay. Once established
therein, he despatched Judson for his mail and for any English papers
that might be found, then took up his position by a front window and
sternly watched the bund.

The picturesque harbor, full of sampans and junks, the gay streets, full
of color and movement, the thousand unfamiliar sights and sounds, held
no interest for the Honorable Percival. His whole attention was focused
upon the jinrikishas that constantly arrived and departed at the
entrance below.

He wanted to see Bobby's face and read there the signs of contrition,
which he felt sure must have followed her unfeeling conduct of the night
before. But he intended to punish her before he forgave. Such a violence
to their friendship could not go unrebuked. Even when he received the
note of apology which he felt sure she would send up the moment she
reached the hotel, he would delay answering it. She must be made to
suffer in order to profit by this unhappy experience.

His reflections were interrupted by a rap at the door, which called him
away from the window. It proved to be a sleek Chinaman, who proffered
his card, bearing the inscription:

"G. Lung Fat, Ladies' and Gents' Tailer."

G. Lung Fat, it seemed, had beheld Percival in the lobby and been
greatly impressed with his bearing. It would be an honor, he urged, with
the fervor of an artist craving permission to paint a subject that had
captured his fancy, to cut, fit, and finish any number of garments