Leslie could see them only indistinctly from where he sat, and they, not looking in his direction, failed to see him at all.
They were coming up to the veranda when the woman turned to the little picture garden, laughed, and pointed it out to her companion. Then she left the path, stepped gingerly right into the middle of the landscape garden country, and tried to pluck up an oak tree, a gnarled and ancient-looking oak tree eight inches high.
“Who?” asked Campanula, turning from the sight of this outrage with uplifted forefinger.
“They are Foreign Devils,” said Leslie using the Chinese idiom. He was very pale, leaning forward in chair. “Look, Campanula! I verily believe she is trying to tear up your mountains to see how they grow. That’s what they call in England ‘cheek,’ Campanula.”
CHAPTER XII
THE FOREIGN DEVILS
The female Foreign Devil having failed to uproot the oak, which clung to its native soil with a tenacity highly Japanese, returned to the garden path. And then came the voice of Pine-breeze kow-towing to the strangers, bidding them welcome, and imploring them to make the honorable entrance.
They passed from view into the house, and Leslie rose from his chair.