Mara started. "Will you tell him?" she asked anxiously.
The Count bowed stiffly. "I am a Japanese gentleman," he said in cool and high-bred tones, "and so I can do nothing against my honour. I cannot take you with me unless your father consents."
"But he will not," breathed Mara, becoming pale with emotion.
"He will. Already this morning he has received a long letter from me, which I sent from London. It explains how I love you, and asks for your hand."
"But you are not of my religion!" whispered Mara distressed; "he may object to that."
"I think not, as your father, from what I saw, is of no particular religion himself. I have a special license in my pocket. We can be married to-day in your own church and by your own priest. When we reach Japan we can be married according to Shinto rites."
"But your family?"
"I have my uncle in London. On hearing all about you, he has agreed. There will be no trouble with my family."
Mara, still nervous, would have asked further questions and would have put forward further objections, but that Patricia made her appearance at the door. She looked singularly beautiful, although she was not so in Akira's eyes. He preferred the small features and colourless looks of Mara. Patricia's face was too boldly cut and too highly coloured to be approved of by an Oriental.
"How are you, Count?" said Miss Carrol, shaking hands.