"Love?" the Japanese repeated, dwelling softly on the word. "That is not the word now, Miss Ballard. I have only known its meaning since I have met you," he added, gently.
The girl's heart beat with a pleasurable wildness. It was sweet to hear these words from the lips of one who hesitated always so deferentially from speaking his feelings; from one who a moment before had filled her with a fear that, after all, another might interest him just as she had done; for coquettes are essentially selfish.
"You will not marry her?" she questioned, in a low voice.
She could not restrain the almost pleading tone that crept into her voice; for though she kept telling herself that they could never be anything to each other, and that she already loved another, yet, after all, was she so sure of her heart? The Japanese was silent. "That will depend," he said, slowly. "It is the wish of our fathers. They have always looked forward to it." His voice was very sad as he added: "Perhaps I should grow to love her. Surely, I would try, at least, to do my duty to my parents."
With a sudden effort the girl rose to her feet.
"It would be a cruel thing to do," she said, "cruel for her and for you. It would be fair to no one. You do not love; therefore, you should not marry her." Her beautiful eyes challenged him. A wild hope crept into the Japanese's heart that the girl must surely return his feeling for her, or she would not speak so. He was Americanized, and man of the world enough, to understand somewhat of these things. He purposely misled her, taking pleasure in the girl's evident resentment at his marriage with Numè.
"I would never marry a man I did not love," she continued. "No! I would have to love him with my whole heart."
"It is different in Japan," he said, quietly. "There we do not always marry for love, but rather to please the parents. We try always to love after marriage—and often we succeed."
"Your customs are—are—barbarous, then," Cleo said, defiantly. "We in America could not understand them."
There was a vague reproach now in her voice. The Japanese had risen also. He was smiling, as he looked at the girl. Perhaps she felt unconsciously the tenderness of that look, for she turned her own head away persistently.