Scrolls and mats, panels and firescreens, whereon the hand of art had
caused to spring and flourish these slender Eastern stalks, which
sprout in drooping foliage, at the summit of their lanky height. There
was an endless variety gathered into this limited space, it was a
scene which should provoke a regretful tear, for memory's sake, from
the patriotic oblong eye of any exiled Japanese.
My eyes still wandered over these many-hued trifles, and my mind was
still busy with its vagrant reflections, when a gruff voice said in my
ear:
"Move on there--do you hear."
I started, and saw Zita on one side and Louis on the other; they were
returning from their day's mental toil, and had spied me loitering by
the shop windows. I joined them, and in happy, careless concourse, we
trod our way towards our home. When we reached the house the lamps had
been lighted and the curtains drawn, dinner steamed upon the table.
Feeling better for my walk, I sat down with rosy cheeks and sharpened
appetite to my evening meal. As I was about to begin Mr. Nyle handed me
a letter, which had arrived during my absence. I took it up and looked
at it curiously, a smile broke over my countenance as I did so, for I
recognized Hortense's delicate handwriting.
All during dinner this welcome little letter lay in my lap. Every now
and then I touched it caressingly, as if trying to read it with my
finger-tips, and wondered how long it would be before cousin Bessie
would move her chair away from the table, that I might retire and
gratify myself with its contents.
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