"Don't let us talk about—about such things," she said; and again there was that little break in her voice that had been there when Tom had walked with her. "Our—our friendship has been so delightful," she added; "don't let us break it just now."
For the first time since she had known him there was a note of sternness in Takashima's voice.
"Love should not break friendship," he said. "It should rather cement it."
The wind blew her hair wildly about her face, and in her restlessness it irritated her. She put her hands up and held back the light, soft curls that had escaped.
"Shall I speak to your mother?" he asked her.
"No!—No!" she said, quickly; "mother has—has nothing to do with it."
"Will you not tell me what to expect, then?" The sadness of his voice touched the girl's heart, bringing the tears to her eyes.
"I cannot answer yet. Wait till we get to Japan. Please wait till then."
"I tried to plan ahead," he said, "but you are right, Miss Ballard. You will want some time to think this over. It will be but five days now before we reach Japan. If that you are very kind to me in those five days my heart shall take great hope of what your answer will be."