It Happened in Japan

by Baroness Albert d' Anethan

But Amy was not allowed to depart just yet. Sir Ralph was wise enough to see that he had--to use his own phraseology--"put his foot into it," and he mentally decided that, for the future, Lady Martinworth's name should figure as little as possible in his and Amy's conversations.

He promptly made up for lost time. And when Amy parted from him a quarter of an hour later the radiance of her face proved that, certainly for the time being, the fact that such an annoying person as Lady Martinworth existed was entirely obliterated from her mind.

Meanwhile, Sir Ralph Nicholson had spoken the truth when he announced that the lady discussed was an unhappy woman, though perhaps he would have been more accurate if he had contented himself by saying that she was an intensely bored woman. She hated Tokyo, and, for that reason alone, she had been somewhat disappointed when her husband had started on his travels without her. As for his indifference to her companionship, she was too much accustomed to that state of things to greatly worry herself on that score. It was only on very rare occasions, such as the day when she had unbosomed herself to Pearl, that she would allow the fact of her husband's want of affection to distress her. "Harry" Martinworth was essentially practical, and if only she had been able to indulge in some amusement more or less congenial to her tastes to occupy her spare time, she would certainly never have troubled herself about what, by bitter experience, she knew to be the inevitable.

But here she was, planted down in a Tokyo hotel, with scarcely an acquaintance in the whole of Japan save Sir Ralph and the members of the English Legation. Art of any kind had no interest for her, the collecting of curios held out no inducement, and such scenery as had come under her notice she loudly declared was absurdly overrated. Later on, it was her ambition to climb Fuji-yama, Nantaisan, Asama-yama or any other mountain that might happen to come in her way, but as yet it was far too early in the year to think of such strenuous expeditions.

Meanwhile, there were two or three sights which Lady Martinworth concluded were really worth her consideration--the game of polo, as it is played in Japan, the fencing, and the wrestling matches. Over the description of the latter she grew quite enthusiastic. The fact that these matches are not greatly patronised by the presence of ladies was alone sufficient to encourage Lady Martinworth in witnessing the performance as often as she could get a chance. She felt no disgust. On the contrary, she experienced intense admiration at the sight of these gigantic naked men, with their rolls of fat, and their huge muscles standing out like cords, and at each fresh feat of strength her enthusiasm increased. If all Japanese had been built on the same Herculean lines as the wrestlers, Lady Martinworth's admiration for the race would have been unbounded, but, as it was, for the natives generally her Ladyship expressed that contempt which to say the least is to be pitied as the outcome of ignorance, and of an insular and unenquiring mind.

She told Sir Ralph she could not see what there was in Japan to make such a fuss about. She launched into politics, and prophesied complete annihilation if the country ever went to war with Russia. If the Japanese were as enlightened and advanced as was said, why on earth hadn't they made decent golf-links in Tokyo? What could one think of a people who actually didn't know the meaning of the word "sport" in its everyday sense. As for their women, it was positively laughable to think of them as never taking any form of exercise, merely contenting themselves by driving in 'rickshas with the hood up, or in carriages that were closed. On very rare occasions they did walk a few steps, she had been told, but then, was it not a dutiful and humble couple of yards behind the husband? Again, what possibly could be the charm of the Japanese woman for the European man was a mystery altogether beyond her comprehension. A soft, purring kitten of a creature who could only smile, acquiesce in everything, make gentle little phrases, and have pretty manners! Ralph ventured to remark that it was probably these very attributes, so unusual and so soothing, that proved their undoubted fascination and their charm. But at this assertion he was met with such a stony stare of amazement that he reddened. On the virtues and attractiveness of the Japanese woman, and the courage and perspicacity, the cleverness and far-seeing proclivities of the Japanese people generally, on which subjects Nicholson held the very strongest opinions, he, in all future discussions with Lady Martinworth, from henceforth held his peace.

As an amusement, therefore, Lady Martinworth's bicycle proved almost her only resource. Even there she was doomed to a certain amount of disappointment, for she had not reckoned on the extreme variableness of the Japanese climate. It developed into a rainy spring. On certain days the roads in and around Tokyo were practically impassable, and this inconvenience increased her contempt for a nation whose Town Municipality was certainly at that time, permitted so completely to neglect its duties. A cloudless day, perfect in the brilliancy and clearness of its atmosphere, would however, put a temporary stop to her grumblings, and, seizing these rare opportunities, and commanding Sir Ralph to accompany her, Lady Martinworth would promptly don her bloomers, straightway sallying forth on a bicycle ride of many miles.

These expeditions, on the whole, suited Ralph's particular frame of mind, for they all took place before his engagement to Amy Mendovy. They would ride long distances without exchanging a word, which gave him plenty of time for reflection and for forming various projects and plans for the future, which, even at this time, he ventured to think, might possibly prove not altogether so absolutely despairing and hopeless. While resting themselves at some chaya, or tea house, or while seated beneath the shade of a knoll of pines, or within the shadows of a bamboo grove, in the seclusion of which nestled many a picturesque Buddhist or Shinto shrine, Ralph would lay himself out to be agreeable to his companion. And, indeed, he found her capital company, and if the conversations did invariably turn on the subject of sport in some form or other, he was all the better pleased. For Ralph was a keen sportsman, and in "Harry" Martinworth, whose love for all kinds of out-door avocations was without affectation--and whose proficiency therein was indisputable--he found a genuine kindred spirit.

It was during one of these expeditions that he happened to mention the fact of his friend Mrs. Nugent's illness. He had not forgotten the Cherry party, nor the antagonistic and disdainful glances in which the ladies had indulged at the time, and consequently he had so far purposely avoided bringing Pearl's name into their conversations. One day, however, when poor Pearl was at her very worst, he proved such a dull companion--so pre-occupied, that Lady Martinworth's curiosity was aroused, and after some difficulty, she succeeded in extracting the reason of his persistent and melancholy silence.

To Ralph's surprise, his companion, on ascertaining the state of affairs, promptly turned her bicycle round, the only explanation she deigned to offer for this spasmodic movement being her intention of going forthwith to Mrs. Nugent's house to see what could be done for her.