"And now, sir," he said, when this was settled and again shaking the sheets of blue paper at Akira. "I understand from this that you wish to marry my daughter Mara. Of course, it is quite impossible!"
"Why?" asked Akira calmly, and holding Mara's hand.
"Because you are not an Englishman," spluttered the Squire.
"If I was a Frenchman, or a German, you would not object!" retorted the Count coolly. "Why not say that it is because I am not a European!"
"Very good then, I say it. You are of the yellow race, and Mara is of the white. Marriage between you is ridiculous."
"I don't think so, sir."
Mara looked at her father disdainfully. "I don't know why you talk so," she said with a shrug. "I intend to marry Count Akira to-day, and go away with him to-morrow, to Japan in our yacht."
"Our yacht, indeed!" echoed the Squire angrily, and then stared at the pale obstinate face of his daughter, framed in a nimbus of feathery golden hair. "Oh you are a minx! You never loved me!"
"I can't help that," said Mara doggedly; "I never loved anyone until I met with the Count. I couldn't understand myself until I danced that night in the drawing-room. Danced the Miko-kagura."
"What is that? What is she talking about?" Colpster turned to Akira.