"What a happy day! Isn't Jane the realest saint you ever knew? You're a saint, too, Ursula, the nice sinnery kind that I love to play with. I am tired and hungry. Come on, let's find Lady Jinny and go home. Isn't the blessedest thing in the world to have one to go to? I dare you to race me to the corner." I was far from feeling playful, so declined.
More than ever I felt the necessity of an interview with Page. I must know the truth. He must know the happenings of the afternoon.
That evening, after dinner, while sitting with Zura in the living-room, I eagerly listened for Page's step in the hall. Soon it came, and as we arose to greet him I was made more anxious by his fever-bright eyes.
I was reassured, however, when he replied to my inquiries by saying: "Quite all right, thank you. Head gets a bit rocky at times, but that does not matter. Awfully sorry I was unable to be among those present at Miss Jane's tea party. Tell me all about it—the guests and the costumes."
Though he walked about the room, picking up books and small objects only to lay them quickly down, he gave the closest attention to Zura as she eagerly gave her account of the afternoon.
I was about to interrupt with a request to Page to come with me for a private conference in the dining-room, when a summons came for me to go at once to the house in the garden where Ishi lived. The messenger thought Ishi was very ill, or gone crazy. I found him very drunk. Standing in the middle of the room, with rows of rare orchids ranged around the walls, he was waving a sharp-bladed weapon while executing a sword dance. In between steps he made speeches to the plants, telling them how their blessed brothers and sisters had had their heads cut off by a silly girl on whom he would have vengeance. He had sworn by his blood at the temple.
It required me a good hour to reduce him to submission and to sleep. When I returned to the house Page Hanaford was gone. I was disappointed enough to cry. Zura said that the next morning was the time for him to go to the Government office to fill out the papers required for his position at the Normal College, and that he must make his last preparation for this. He asked her to say to me that he would accept the offer I had made to go with him as interpreter and would call for me on his way down.
"But," I asked almost peevishly, "what made him go so soon?"
"I am not sure. Maybe he wanted to study. Or, it may be, I made his head ache. I did talk a lot. I told him everything—about the babies in the bath and Jane's sermon and your detective."