I'd never heard Zura talk so well nor so enthusiastically on a sensible subject. For a moment I had a hope that her love for the beauty of the country would overcome her antagonism to her mother's people. I was quickly undeceived.
Then, as if fearful that praise for the glories of old Nippon might make her seem forgetful of the festal day of her own land, she flashed out, "But please don't anybody forget that I am an American to the marrow-bone." She turned to Page. "Did you come direct from America to Japan?"
The usual miserable flush of confusion covered the boy's face. "Well—you see, I never keep track of dates; guess I'm too—maybe I've traveled a bit too much to count days—"
Either ignoring Page's evasion or not seeing it, Zura continued, "But you love the blessed old country, don't you?"
"With all my heart," he answered fervently.
"Then why do you stay out here? A man can go where he pleases."
"I have my work on hand and riches in mind. You know the old saw about a rolling stone?"
"Indeed I do. It gathers no moss. Neither does it collect burrs in gray whiskers and hayseed in long hair. I tell you," she half-whispered, leaning towards him confidentially, "Let's you and I kidnap Jane and Ursula and emigrate to 'Dixie Land, the land of cotton, where fun and life are easily gotten.' Are you with me?" she audaciously challenged.
Page's face matched the white flowers near him. With a lightness, all assumed, he answered, "All right; but wait till I make a fortune—teaching." He arose, saying he would go out on the balcony for a smoke.
Soon after that Jane left, saying she must write many letters of thanks.