Mac undertook to make everything right in that respect, though it would cost him a good deal of trouble, as the government have a holy horror of foreigners spreading beyond the allotted quarters; and then a Chinese comprador was obtained, and received orders from Leslie to furnish the place with the necessary futons (he determined to live in the native way), pots, tins, kettles, Mousmés, and a decent cook; also screens and mosquito-nets, plum trees in pots, and everything else that might be necessary for comfort and adornment.
Three days later the comprador appeared at the Nagasaki hotel, where Leslie was staying, and declared that everything was in order—even to the last tea-cup. He had hired servants, made a most advantageous bargain: he had hired a whole family.
“But, bless my soul! I don’t want a family,” said Leslie. “I only want a cook and a couple of girls.”
Just so. This family consisted of a cook—her name was Fir-cone—and three daughters. They would all come together or not at all; he had got them at a bargain. The names of the daughters were: Moon, Plum-blossom, and Snow. Sixteen shillings a month a-piece was the wages they were promised. There was also a cat belonging to this family—
“Oh, well, I’ll take them,” said Leslie, “and if they don’t suit I can get others.”
That afternoon, preceded by the comprador and followed by two coolies carrying his luggage he went up to take formal possession, and was received by his new servants all on their knees—the three Mousmés in front and mother Fir-cone in the background.
Next day he started on the long journey to Nikko to fetch Campanula. When he returned with his charge the first person to meet him on the quay was Mac. Mac in a stove pipe hat he had bought cheap and which did not fit him but of which he seemed proud. Campanula instantly recognized Mac with a smile and an attempt to kow-tow before him, which Leslie frustrated, on account of the dirty state of the quay. It was a pretty little incident, and went to the old fellow’s heart.