The girl, in a breath, told her of the discovery of her true parentage. She implored Madame Yamashiro to hasten her marriage with Yoshida, so that she might not be forced to leave Japan. For could this foreign father then tear her from her husband? No, all the laws of Japan would prevent him.
So rapid was her utterance that one word tripped against another.
In her agitation, Madame Yamashiro thought the girl insane. She clapped her hands so loudly that half a dozen maidens came to answer at once.
“The master!” she cried; and never had the Yamashiro servants seen their mistress so perturbed.
Not a word did she speak to Hyacinth after that until her husband and son entered the room; then faithfully she repeated the words of the girl.
Like a little stupid animal the boy’s round face became vacant. He stared at the girl out of a pair of small, amazed eyes. She tapped her foot impatiently upon the floor, and then turned to the father, her two little hands outstretched.
“Oh, good Yamashiro, will you not hasten this marriage? I am ready, willing, to wed at once—to-day—this minute.”
“If it be true,” said Yamashiro, heavily, “that you are an Engleesh, it is quite impossible. My son could not marry with such.”
“But we are betrothed,” she cried, piteously. “Yamashiro Yoshida is my affianced. Oh, you will not cast me off!”
She turned pitifully from one to the other. They were all quite silent. Then she spoke to Yoshida. Her voice was clear and hard.