“Shall we want so many flowers for the house, grandma?” asked Marion.
“No, no, no. Only one small bunch for house.”
“Then why—?”
“The flowers are for the honorable picnic booth. It must have plenty.”
“O—o-h! Why, grandma, it’s just covered heavy with wistarias now—”
“Such a talk-child! Hush! Go at once.”
The little girl obeyed this time, though she thrust a mischievous face back between the shoji for a moment.
“Grandma,” she called, “I’m going to take a wagon along and fill it. Will that be enough?”
“Go, go, naughty one!” and the naughty one fled.
On this day the Kurukawa house seemed alive with busy ones. In every room some one was moving about. Many of the old servants had been recalled. From the top to the bottom of the house work was in progress. The shoji of the entire upper floor had been pushed aside, making a sort of roofed pavilion of this upper level. The little balconies were heaped with flowers and green trailing vines were threaded in and out among the railings. The long, bare expanse of exquisite matted floor needed no relief of furniture. This cool interior was the most attractive place imaginable. From all sides the breezes swept in, making it delightfully cool. Madame Sano bustled about the place throwing mats about.