In one corner of the room was a splendid vase almost as tall as she was, and on the wall hung a scroll showing two women gathering cherry blossoms. On the floor were soft mats fitted closely together.
Suddenly Billie blushed scarlet.
"Oh, Cousin Helen," she exclaimed. "We forgot to take off our shoes."
"Don't speak to me," answered her relation. "My legs have gone to sleep and I have lost the power to move them. I am in an agony of pain."
At this moment a figure darkened the doorway. The three Japanese women rose and bowed low and the servants made obeisances. The five Americans were amazed to recognize their friend of yesterday, Yoritomo Ito. He was quite as amazed as they were, although he did not show it except by the flick of an eyelash, because no well-bred Japanese ever shows surprise.
"How do you do, Mr. Ito?" cried Miss Campbell. "Is it possible that this is your house we have broken into so rudely?"
It was indeed Mr. Ito's home, and, the three ladies were his mother, his aunt and his sister.
"It is a great pleasure, I am sure, that you have found refuge in my home. I trust they have served you well."
Then he spoke rapidly in Japanese to his mother, who smiled and clasped her hands with joy, as if heaven could not have bestowed a greater gift than the privilege to entertain these delightful foreigners.
"And are you the head of the family, Mr. Ito?" asked Miss Campbell.