It was Onoye, as they had suspected, and Mary recalled that it was the second time she had seen the Japanese girl crying miserably when she thought she was alone.

Onoye tried to smile when she saw the three young ladies of the house looking at her with great concern.  She ran to Billie and fell on her knees.

“Forgive, gracious lady,” she said, endeavoring to compose her expression to its usual tranquility.

“Why, you poor dear, what have I to forgive?” exclaimed Billie, trying to raise Onoye to her feet.

“Why are you so unhappy, Onoye?  Is there anything we can do for you?” asked Elinor.

“Do tell us and let us help you,” put in Mary.

But Onoye was silent.

“O’Kami San, will you not ask her?” said Billie.  “Perhaps she would tell you in Japanese when she can’t in English.”

At the words “O’Kami San,” Onoye jumped to her feet in subdued excitement.

“O’Kami San,” she repeated.

The two Japanese girls confronted each other.  They spoke in low, rapid voices and their faces were so calm and unemotional they might have been two Japanese dolls wound tip to move the lips and occasionally make a slight gesture with one hand.  Presently Onoye slipped from her obi a small package done up in crêpe paper and gave it to O’Kami, who concealed it in the voluminous folds of her own kimono.  They exchanged low, ceremonious bows and Onoye hurried away, while O’Kami turned to the mystified young-Americans with an apologetic smile.

“Receive excuses and pardon grant,” she said.

Billie made a superhuman effort not to laugh, while Mary stooped to break off a spray of azaleas and Elinor examined intently a stunted pine tree planted in a big green jar near the path.

Japanese gardeners are very fond of cultivating these dwarf trees.  Some of the tiniest are said to be of great age.  The arrested development contorts the venerable branches into strange twisted forms but they put forth blossoms and foliage with systematic dignity.

“What is the matter with our little maid?  Were you able to find out?” Billie asked the visitor.

But O’Kami San was not inclined to be communicative, and they were obliged to return to the summer-house with their curiosity entirely unsatisfied.  In the meantime, Miss Campbell and Nancy were in a painful state of embarrassment about what to say next.  The conversation had come to a dead stop, while Miss Campbell, with a flushed face, raised her eyes to heaven with a prayerful look and Nancy endeavored to say a few words about the weather.  Yoritomo was inclined to be silent, too.  He kept his eyes on the floor and only raised them to transmit Miss Campbell’s remarks to his mother and aunt.

“Will you ask your mother, Mr. Ito, if—­she suffers from rheumatism from sitting on the floor so much?” asked Miss Campbell, groaning mentally and sending up a prayer that the visitors would see fit to bring the visit to an immediate end.