od back of his chair and watched his tea getting cold. The
suggestion of something having happened to Bobby had changed his anger
to sharp solicitude. Gruesome tales of brutality toward foreigners in
Eastern ports came back to him.

"I wonder," said Mrs. Weston, persuasively, "if you would mind taking a
jinrikisha and going down to Benten Dori to see if they are there. I
have no one else to send."

"I don't know that I should care to go myself," said Percival, "but I'll
send my man."

Judson having been despatched, Percival with difficulty refrained from
following him. Mrs. Weston's solicitude as she hovered between the
telephone-booth and the desk was infectious, and he found himself pacing
from entrance to entrance, imagining the most calamitous causes for the
delay.

It was not until a joyful exclamation from Elise Weston announced the
approach of the truants that he drew a deep breath of relief and retired
to the reading-room. He was more than ever resolved not to see Bobby; to
her former transgressions was now added the new and unpardonable offense
of having made him acutely anxious about her.

He took up an old copy of the "Graphic," and resolutely read of events
that had taken place before he left England. He even glanced through the
pages of the innocuous "Gentlewoman," and tried to concentrate upon an
article entitled "Favorite Fabrics for Autumn." In vain were his
efforts; every sound from the lobby or the street claimed his instant
attention. At last, when an unmistakable commotion without gave evidence
that the Weston party was leaving, he got up, despite himself, and went
to the window.

They were all there, Mrs. Weston, Elise, the Scotchman, Andy, and Bobby,
all climbing into their jinrikishas in the greatest possible haste and
in the highest possible spirits. One after another the jinrikishas
trundled away, until only Bobby's was left while her runner adjusted his
sandal. Percival saw her turn in her seat and eagerly scan the terrace
and the windows of the hotel. Then suddenly she caught sight of him, and
her face broke into a radiant smile as she waved her hand and nodded.

A moment later and his eyes were straining after a figure that was fast
disappearing up the bund. It was a small, alert figure, disturbingly
young and sweet and buoyant. The flying jinrikisha, the hair blowing
across her cheek, the scarf that fluttered in the breeze, all suggested
flight, and flight to the masculine mind is on