Their progress toward the dining room had been attentively watched by the ambassador who, exchanging greetings with his guests, imperceptibly followed Ethel and reached her side just as the professor left her.
“Ah, Miss Ogden,” he said. “Why have you never confided to me that you speak Japanese, when instructing my wife in English?”
“But I don’t speak Japanese,” protested Ethel, somewhat bewildered. Her charming personality had won her a friendly footing in their household and the regard of both the ambassador and his wife, and she had particularly enjoyed having the latter for a pupil the year before.
“But, Miss Ogden, you answered Mr. Saito in Japanese,” answered the ambassador, regarding her steadily.
Ethel laughed. “I picked up the phrase ‘mada-mada’ in one of your textbooks,” she explained.
“But that is very clever,” and the ambassador looked at her with a new respect.
“Frankly,” Ethel’s love of fun got the better of her, “Your Excellency, I am a very clever woman,” and she laughed at his serious reception of her jesting. “But no one has discovered it until now. I thank you for the compliment.”
The ambassador bowed gravely and started to speak, but the arrival of a Cabinet officer caused him to turn hastily away, and Ethel welcomed Professor Norcross and his cooling ice with unaffected pleasure.
“I think the Japanese are the most inquisitive, suspicious people I’ve ever encountered,” she confided to him. “They pursue the same idea for hours and hours. I’ll never be able to convince Mr. Saito that my knowledge of Japanese is limited to three or four words. Now, if I were an accomplished linguist like Mr. Barclay—gracious, I wonder what the ambassador would say if he knew Mr. Barclay speaks Japanese.”
Norcross laid down his spoon on his empty plate. “You heard him, then, speak Japanese?”