They talked back and forth in an animated way for some time. I was dying to speak, but did not dare; but I am sure that once in the heat of the argument, Professor Ballington shot a glance across the table at me which spoke volumes. The same smile was in his eyes that was there when I sang for him my one Spanish song. What did he mean? Can he guess? Does he know that I am not Spanish?—that I am the Yellow Pearl?
May 5th, 1——
A very important item has appeared in the newspaper to-day—poor Lee Yet has fallen into trouble; rather, other people are trying to get him into trouble, and his wife, the little oval-faced Mrs. Yet, has been subpœnaed to appear as a witness in his behalf.
That dear little sad woman to have to go to court before all those Americans! "She shall not be studied and laughed at as a curiosity. She shall be dressed up like an American woman!" I declared as soon as I read the item.
In pursuance of my idea this afternoon, I a second time donned grandmother's garments—lucky that grandmother and I are the same height—and a second time left the house unnoticed by any one except Yick.
How very much at home I feel in the garments of an elderly gentlewoman! Perhaps I am walking around the world the eighteen-year-old reincarnation of some dear, silken-clad old granny who inhabited this sphere hundreds of years ago.
I quickly found my way down to the home of Mrs. Yet, and rapped at the door.
It was opened by the little woman herself, who looked even sadder than when I first saw her. I addressed her in Chinese and lifting my veil, told her that I had come to make her a visit. She smiled in a pleased way, opened wide the door, and invited me into the house. She had never noticed the discrepancy between my antiquated dress and young face, and was blissfully unconscious that my garments were fifty years (more or less) out of date.