So he gave it up, decided to give the whole affair no more thought until the afternoon, and flung open the door to the office determined to devote himself entirely to whatever routine the day might bring. There was Kikuchi, sitting lazily, feet against a table. It was almost uncanny, as if by mere thought, summoned by a wish, he had materialized like a genii of some kind.
"Well, I'll be hanged. You know, I had just been thinking of you, Kikuchi-san. By Jove, you're just the man I wanted to see." Now, that was just what he should not have said; in his surprise the words had slipped from him. Well, anyway, now he would wait and see what the other might have to say.
"I thought so; so you see, I'm here." He advanced, hand outstretched, smiling. "No use beating about the bush, is there? It's about your charming little visitor, Kimiko-san, is it not?"
Confound him, how did he know? Of course, it was generally accepted that the authorities kept themselves fairly well informed as to the doings of foreigners, especially correspondents and such, but this was just a little too surprising, too damnably efficient.
"Never mind," Kikuchi had caught his thought. "I found out about it quite accidentally. It's all right. There will be no scandal; it won't get out. But I had an idea that I might be concerned in this, you know, so I just came to see you to find out; that is, if you will tell me?"
Well, why not? He had hesitated about seeing Kikuchi, but here fate had solved the question for him. He filled his pipe deliberately, spoke slowly, felt his way, gave but a bare outline. Kimiko had run away because she feared a marriage was being arranged for her. She did not want to marry at all. He emphasized the unimportance of his own appearance in the drama, as a mere incidental figure, convenient as a basis for the threat of potential scandal which formed the kernel of Kimiko's scheme.
"You don't flatter yourself, do you," Kikuchi laughed. "Well, neither do I, for, of course, you needn't have been so studiously delicate in leaving out the fact that I am the unwelcome bridegroom—for I take it that she told you. But it all suits me splendidly. I don't want to marry her any more than she wants to marry me, and her scheme should work out fine for both of us. But we'll have to move quickly lest there be a scandal in earnest. That sort of thing won't remain secret forever."
He leaned back, fingers drumming a rat-tat-tat on the chair arm, evidently entirely content. "Why so serious, Kent-san. What are you thinking? Here, out with it."
"Well, since you yourself invite it, I don't mind telling you that you puzzle me, you two, you and Kimiko-san." He was glad that the other had given him the opportunity. "You seem to me made for each other, both young, having the same tastes, liberal thoughts, modern mode of living; and you seem to like each other, quite evidently so; and yet, when it comes to marriage, you both fight shy. You know, to me, to the foreign point of view, the whole thing is, to tell the truth, mighty puzzling."
"Of course it is," Kikuchi laughed. "You've missed the main point entirely; but she didn't, Kimiko-san. She knew well enough. Kent-san, old man, you're quite right about my liking Kimiko-san. In fact, it's more than probable that I like her far more than I shall care for whatever girl I eventually marry. But the point is that I don't want a modern wife, after modern style, with love, woman's rights, modern female thoughts and all that. Will you let me be entirely frank, Kent-san. All right; then I'll tell you just how I and many others look at it. The point is that Japan has attained great gains from Western civilization, electricity, steamships, railroads, and thousands of other things that make life more pleasant and convenient; but, honestly now, can you show me where we have gained much culturally, or spiritually, or morally? Of course, some foreigners point to Christianity, but you know as well as I do that much of that is entirely on the surface. The better classes become Christians because it is modern, just as they might learn fox-trotting or playing the piano; and the poorer ones take it up because it is a cheap way to learn English or any other of the matters of instruction that the missionaries hold out as bait. What else have we gotten morally or culturally from you that was better than our own? We are losing our art, manners, morals, and getting instead your freak futurism, your jazz and your cocktail-drinking, leg-displaying flapper. Now, I'm willing to admit that all that amuses me. I enjoy the dancing, the freedom with these girls. I have a better time with them than I possibly shall have with the girl of the type whom I shall marry; but, heavens, I don't marry a wife for entertainment, because she's a good fellow. I marry a girl whom I can respect as a mother to my children. Mind you, I don't want to seem to criticize your system. It may suit you entirely, be just the thing for you; but it is entirely inapplicable to us. Your country is run on the theory of the development and the rights of the individual. In Japan the basis of our entire social system and body politic is the family. In America, where each individual must look after the expression of his own personality, it is plain that marriage must be by personal selection, though I admit it astounded me,—what I saw in America. A young man and a girl meet, dance. 'Here, your step just fits in with mine. Let's get married.' You know, it's almost as bad as that; and then, when you have let themselves tie themselves up thus unthinkingly, you make it almost impossible for them to remedy it if it's a mistake. Divorce must be due to some disgraceful reason,—adultery, desertion, failure to provide; one must either continue to drag out life in a marriage which is a curse to the parties thereto and which does no good to the community, or prove oneself some kind of a beast. In Japan we make marriage a serious matter, try to give it the best possible chance for permanency for the sake of the community and of the State; but incidentally the parties themselves benefit. When you read the papers of America and those of Japan—and ours are, if anything, more sensational than yours—you'll find that on the whole we have far fewer marriage messes than you have.