Aoi moved uneasily. Then she looked up very earnestly at her interlocutor.
“The little one knows nothing of her parentage, save that she is an orphan confided to my care. It would distress her to be told that—that she is not Japanese.”
“Then you admit that?”
“No; I do not so admit. I but begged the honorable one to put no such notion into her mind, so sorely would it distress her.”
“I wouldn’t think of keeping her in ignorance,” exclaimed the other, with some indignation. “She ought to have been told the truth long ago. I shall certainly tell her.”
“What can you tell her?”
Aoi had risen and was regarding the missionary with a strange expression.
“That I suspect she is not Japanese—not all Japanese.”
“She would not believe you,” said Aoi, thoughtfully.
“I will see her at once, if you will allow me,” said Mr. Blount, also rising. He was somewhat startled at the attitude and the reply of Aoi. She had placed herself before the door, as if to prevent the passage of any one desiring to enter.