"Quite sick," he said. "She grew very sad and lonely for a time, and about a week ago she broke down when out with her maid, and was carried to Mrs. Davis' house, where she has been ever since."
"I'll go right over and see her," Orito said, with concern.
He found Numè looking very thin and wan. She was lying on an English sofa. Koto was beside her, singing very softly as she played on her samisen. Orito paused on the threshold, listening to the last weird, thrilling notes of the beautiful song, "Sayonara" (Farewell).
"It is indeed very sad to find you sick, Numè," he said, gently, as he sat down beside her.
She smiled faintly.
"I am afraid you have kept too much in seclusion, Numè. You ought to go out more into the open air."
Still the girl smiled silently—a pitiful, trembling, patient smile.
Mrs. Davis came into the room and welcomed Orito, trying to cheer the girl up at the same time. "Now we will get better soon," she said, pinching the girl's chin—"now that Orito has come home."
"Ess," the girl answered, vaguely. "Numè will be bedder now."
Koto laid her face against the sick girl's, caressing her little head with her hand.