We took both our shoes and our coats off on the back porch and left them to the tender mercies of the zero weather which prevailed on that night.
We were ushered into this beautiful home.
A room was full of men; stately sons of the family; the gray-bearded, dignified father; but no women, not a single woman. I wondered about this, for I knew that this household was noted for its beautiful daughters and a wonderful mother. The missionaries had told me that.
I wondered why no women came to welcome me.
Finally we sat down to one of those interminable Oriental dinners, with thirty or forty courses; squatted on our haunches, on the cold floor; half-frozen, cramped and uncomfortable.
Then in came a beautiful girl. She was beautiful in every sense of the word; physically and spiritually. There was a touch of refinement about her which made me know that she had received an English education.
But she was not there for any part of the dinner. Not at all. She was there merely to serve.
I found that she could speak English and every time she came to serve me, I took the opportunity of talking with her; taking a chance on whether it was diplomatic for me to do so or not. I was after information.
"You speak good English?" I said. "Why do you not sit down and eat with us?"
She laughed aloud.