astered
the art of growing old gracefully.

"Well, kitten," she said, a trifle louder and shriller than one seemed
to expect of her, "are you going to remain with us a little while, or
will next week see you scampering away again?"

"I'll stay all summer, fuss-budget. I'm going to paint the San
Gregorio while it's on exhibition, and then this old house and the
garden. Oh, mother dear, I'm in love with it! It's wonderful!"

The potato baron had followed Parker and his daughter into the patio,
and stood now, showing all of his teeth in an amiable smile. Parker
suddenly remembered his guest.

"My dear," he addressed his wife, "I have brought a guest with me.
This is Mr. Okada, of whom I wrote you."

Okada bowed low--as low as the rules of Japanese etiquette prescribe,
which is to say that he bent himself almost double. At the same time,
he lifted his hat. Then he bowed again twice, and, with a pleasing
smile proffered his hand. Mrs. Parker took it and shook it with hearty
good will.

"You are very welcome, Mr. Okada," she shrilled. "Murray," she added,
turning to the butler, who was approaching with Okada's suitcase, "show
the gentleman to the room with the big bed in it. Dinner will be ready
at six, Mr. Okada. Please do not bother to dress for dinner. We're
quite informal here."

"Sank you very much," he replied, with an unpleasant whistling intake
of breath; with another profound bow to the ladies, he turned and
followed Murray to his room.

"Well, John," Mrs. Parker demanded, as the Japanese disappeared, "your
little playmate's quite like a mechanical toy. For heaven's sake,
where did you pal up with him?"

"That's the potato baron of the San Joaquin valley, Kate," he informed
her. "I'm trying to interest him in a colonization scheme for his
countrymen. A thousand Japs in the San Gregorio can raise enough
garden-truck to feed the city of Los Angeles--and they will pay a
whooping price for good land with water on it. So I brought him along
for a preliminary survey of the deal."

"He's very polite, but I imagine he's not very brilliant company," his
wife averred frankly. "When you wired me you were bringing a guest, I
did hope you'd bring some jolly young jackanapes to arouse Kay and me."

She sighed and settled back in her comfortable rocking-chair, while
Kay, guided by a maid, proceeded to her room. A recent job of
calcimining had transformed the room from a dirty grayish, white to a
soft