"Of need of it, thou hast not," said Bingi. "Merely jealous art thou."
"What a pretty picture!" called someone. "Bingi and Chippie and Bonnie Prince Fetlar bathing in this glorious August sunlight, and all looking so happy."
We all turned round, and there was Mrs. Devering with a pile of white linen that she was going to hang out to dry.
The Jap got up and bowed respectfully. "Good morning to Mistress of mansion, stoutful and strongful as a man, and in no wise fearsome of work."
Mrs. Devering smiled kindly, and turned to young Dovey, who had not gone in to bathe because she had cut her foot.
"Dovey, dear, tell Bingi the nice surprise we have for him. I wish him to hear it from you, because you were the first to suggest it."
Dear little Dovey, who was angelic when she was not naughty, came limping up to Bingi.
"Once, long, long ago, about five months, I said 'Daddy, Bingi has no little boy and no little girl, and I guess he's lonely.' Daddy said, 'Shouldn't wonder if he is,' and I said, 'He's got a little wifie in Vancouver—I know 'cause he showed me her picture—Daddy, send for the little wee wifie, please, to play with Bingi,' and Daddy he sent and she's coming next week, and you won't be lonely any more—and you're to live with her in that housie on the hill," and she pointed to a pretty green cottage that some carpenters were working at every day.
The young Jap turned as pale as a ghost, and staring from her to her mother sank on the ground on his heels between the carrot rows.
"It's true, Bingi," said Mrs. Devering. "Your young O-Mayo-San is really coming."