same
little lamp, the same little Buddha on the shelf looking at her with
inscrutable eyes.

Yuki San stirred restlessly. "Dat most nice girl in picture," she said
to herself. "Him make marry with dat girl, he say." Then she added
inconsequently, with a sigh, "I much hope Saito San go to war for
long, long time."

CHAPTER IV

For two halcyon months Yuki San lived in a dream. The ample
compensation Merrit insisted upon making for the hospitality extended
to him more than met the modest needs of the little household, and
once again, as in the earlier days, they went on jolly excursions,
visited ancient temples, and picnicked under the shadow of the
_torii_. The father and mother always trotted close behind, and Yuki
San, vastly pleased with her ability, gaily translated the speeches
from one to another. She talked incessantly, laughing over her own
mistakes, and growing prettier and more winsome every day.

Merrit was glad to fill his leisure time in such pleasant
companionship. Yuki San was the same little bundle of charm he
remembered of old, with her innocence untouched, and a heart whose
depths had never yet been stirred.

He teased her, and taught her, and played with her, as he would have
played with a merry child. Naturally gentle and affectionate, he
unconsciously swept Yuki San to the borderland of that golden world
where to awaken alone is agony.

One morning, when the heavy mists of the valley lay in masses of pink
against the deeper purple of the mountain, and his Highness, the sun,
his face flushed from his long climb, was sending his first glances
over the sunny peaks of Fuji-yama, Yuki San arose, after a sleepless
night, and faced the morning with sorrowful eyes.

"You ve'y lazy, Mister Sun, this morning," she said, shaking a finger
at him in reproof; "where you the have been? Why you not come the more
early and make light for my busy?"

She tied the long sleeves of her bright kimono out of her way, and
twisting a bit of cloth about her head, fell to dusting the
_shoji_ and setting the small room in order.

"I must the hurry," she said, as she kept up her brisk dusting. "I
make the food so quick as that Robin San steal berry for his babies.
To-day him one big, big day, but him no glad day. Merrit San go away."
She paused in her work, and a look of pain darkened her eyes, but she
shook her head reproachfully.

"Ah, Yuki San, you make sorry voice and your heart is thinking tears.
You n