“Then I am to blame; for with equal certainty I had no right to do so.”
“You said you had seen him several times and had spoken with him.”
“Yes, but that does not constitute a claim upon His Majesty’s consideration.”
“Why, you have only seen me two or three times, and I am sure you know I’m a friend of yours.”
“Madam, I am delighted to hear you say so. If the Mikado had made a similar statement, I should claim him as a friend before all the world.”
“Then there was another thing you said, and I suppose you’ll go back on that, too. You said you were a partisan of mine, or, since you are such a stickler for accuracy, an adherent—I think that was the word—yes, you were my adherent, or retainer, or something of the sort, such as we read of in old-fashioned novels, and when you said so, poor little trustful girl that I am, I believed you.”
“Indeed, Miss Hemster, you had every right to do so. Should occasion arise, you will find me your staunch defender.”
“Oh, that’s all very pretty; but when it comes to the test, then you fail. You heard what my father said. You must have known I meant you to claim friendship with the Mikado. Poor father’s as transparent as glass, and he surely made it as plain as this funnel that I wished you to claim friendship with the head of the Japanese nation. So, after all your beautiful promises, the moment you get a chance to back me up, you do so by going back on me.”
“My dear Miss Hemster, why did you not give me a hint of your wishes? If, when we were in Nagasaki, you had but said that you wished me to proclaim myself the Emperor’s brother, I should have perjured myself on your behalf like a gentleman.”
“It happened that I was not on deck when you came aboard, and so did not see you. But I do think, if you hadn’t forgotten me entirely, you would have learned at once from my father’s talk what I wished you to say.”