Meanwhile Countess Saito had been in correspondence with Lady
Everington in England. On one bright March morning, she came into
Asako's room with a small flowerpot in her hands.
"See, Asa Chan," she said in her strange hoarse voice, "the first flower of the New Year, the plum-blossom. It is the flower of hope and patience. It blooms when the snow is still on the ground, and before it has any green leaves to protect it."
"It smells sweet," said Asako.
Her hostess quoted the famous poem of the exiled Japanese statesman,
Sukawara no Michizané,—
"When the East wind blows,
Send your perfume to me,
Flower of the plum;
Even if your master is absent,
Do not forget the spring."
"Asako dear," Countess Saito continued, "would you like to go to
England?"
Asako's heart leaped.
"Oh yes!" she answered gladly.
Her hostess sighed reproachfully. She had tried to make life so agreeable for her little visitor; yet from the tone of her voice it was clear that Japan would never be home for her.
"Marchioness Saméjima and I," continued the Japanese lady, "have been arranging for a party of about twenty-five Red Cross nurses to visit England and France. They are all very good, clever girls from noble families. We wish to show sympathy of Japan for the poor soldiers who are suffering so much; and we wish to teach our girls true facts about war and how to manage a hospital in war-time. We thought you might like to go as guide and interpreter."