"Of course; it is all rubbish," said Akira promptly; but Patricia, mindful of his afternoon conversation, did not believe that he spoke as he felt.
"Ah!" sneered Theodore quietly, "you are one of the scoffers. Yet I thought that the East believed in such things."
"We believe in much we never talk about," replied Akira calmly. Then there was a pause, until he suddenly produced from his pocket a bamboo flute. "I can play this," he said, with his eyes on Mara, as though he addressed himself to her; "it is a simple Japanese instrument. Have you a drum?"
Basil, who was addressed, laughed. "I don't think so. There's the dinner-gong."
"That will do," said Akira serenely. "Would you mind getting it and beating it rhythmically like a tom-tom--softly, of course, so as not to drown the notes of my flute. And a hand-bell," he added, casting his looks round the room.
"You are arranging an orchestra," laughed Basil, going out to fetch the gong.
"Here is a bell!" cried Mara, taking a small silver hand-bell from a table covered with nicknacks.
"Hold it, please."
"But what am I to do with it?" asked the girl, bewildered.
"The music I play will tell you," said Akira, somewhat grimly, and then Patricia began to see that there was some meaning in all this preparation. More, that the same was in some hidden way connected with Mara. However, she said nothing, but waited events.