The Motor Maids in Fair Japan Part 16

"What is the matter with you?"

Onoye shook her head.

"Not say it in English." She touched her forehead. "Muchly fire."

"It's fever, of course," said Miss Campbell, kneeling beside the sick girl and feeling her forehead. "I think you had better not stay here, children. It might be something contagious."

"Nonsense," thought Billie; but Miss Campbell was in one of her compelling humors and they retreated obediently, leaving her to hold a conference with O'Haru and to see that everything was done that could be done to alleviate Onoye's sufferings. She finally departed, after satisfying herself that Onoye was in the toils of a bilious attack. But she did not administer calomel as she would have done in ordinary cases of torpid liver. "I suppose the doctor knows what he is about," she said, "and there must be a j.a.panese equivalent to calomel in a country where it rains eternally."

It was decided that they should take the "Comet" out after lunch. Miss Campbell wished to visit an apothecary shop and there were other plans for sight-seeing,--perhaps the magnificent s.h.i.+ba Temple and the wisteria in the park. But before they were to go, there were two surprises in store, one for Billie alone and one for all of them. Just after luncheon while the others were dressing for the trip, Billie, who needed about two minutes for pinning on her hat and slipping on her coat, went back to the stable to take the "Comet" from his garage. On the way, she pa.s.sed the room occupied by O'Haru and her daughter. Not having the least fear of contagion, she entered a back pa.s.sage of the intricate house, which reminded her of the houses she used to build with cards as a child.

Pus.h.i.+ng back the part.i.tion she marched into Onoye's room without announcing herself.

"There's nothing to knock on, so why knock?" she thought.

Billie surprised the little j.a.panese girl sitting up examining her arm, which was wrapped in bandages.

"Why, Onoye, I didn't know you had been injured," she exclaimed, running over and kneeling beside the sick girl.

Onoye was speechless. She tried to cover her arm with the sleeve of her kimono and to apologize and bow all at the same time.

"Not muchly badly," she said at last in a low voice.

"But how did it happen?"

"Not nothing. Pardon grant," murmured Onoye.

"Of course, you poor dear, but how did you injure yourself?"

She laid the bandaged wrist gently on the palm of her hand and looked at it.

"Poor small accident," said Onoye.

"But why was it?"

The two girls looked at each other silently.

"Was it in the library that night?" asked Billie after a long pause.

Onoye's head drooped more and more.

"Poor little thing. Poor child," exclaimed Billie, consumed with pity and remorse, since it had been her own carelessness that had caused the poor small accident.

Onoye had doubtless put out the lights and when she, Billie, had crept into the room like a thief, the j.a.panese girl was frightened and hid herself behind a chair. Then when they had collided, they had both lost their heads and the pistol had gone off. In spite of her remorse, Billie was immensely relieved.

"Papa will be, too," she thought. "It had much better be Onoye than a robber."

And Mr. Campbell was decidedly relieved when he heard the story from his daughter that night.

"I'll keep it a secret, Onoye, dear," said Billie, moved by compa.s.sion.

"I'll only tell Papa. I am so sorry I shot you. It must have hurt terribly."

Onoye tried to smile.

"Forgiveness grant," she murmured again.

"I think I'd better say 'forgiveness grant,'" said Billie. "But I must be going now." She patted Onoye on the cheek and then tiptoed out of the room. "It is a relief," she thought, turning her footsteps toward the garage.

Some minutes later, Billie ran into her cousin's room breathlessly.

"Ready in one moment," called Miss Campbell, who had heard the whir of the motor at the door.

"I want to prepare you for a surprise," said Billie solemnly. "I don't mind telling you that I have had the shock of my life."

"But what is it?" they all demanded in one voice.

"I'll only say this much. Papa has punished the 'Comet' for running over the child that day."

"How?"

"You'll see. I thought I had better prepare you. The shock might have killed you if I hadn't."

"Goodness gracious me, what is it?" cried Miss Campbell, seizing her reticule and gloves and rus.h.i.+ng into the hall, followed by the others.

When she reached the piazza, she sat down flat in a chair and gasped.

There was the "Comet," to be sure. His outlines were as familiar as the profile of a beloved brother, but his beautiful scarlet coat had been taken from him and he wore instead a quiet covering of dark blue. The luxurious red cus.h.i.+ons were covered with buff linen. One small decoration had been conceded by Mr. Campbell. The dark, quietly colored coat was relieved on each side by the buff-colored initials, "M-M" lovingly intertwined.

"I suppose Papa thought the red coat was too gaudy," said Billie, who was indeed just a little tearful over the loss of that cheerful and familiar scarlet dress which would never again flash along the highways like a scarlet bird. "But he's the same old 'Comet' inside," she added hastily.

"You couldn't change his n.o.ble disposition if you painted him sea green."

"I think he looks beautiful," put in Elinor. "He's so neat and elegant in buff and blue. It's like a livery."

The other girls laughed because Elinor's speech was so characteristic.

"Oh, you regal young person," exclaimed Nancy. "Your imagination doesn't stop at anything short of liveried retinues of servants. There is no doubt you were a royal princess in a previous existence. And suppose you are a fat old pug in another life, like Nedda!"

"I am sure Nedda is waited on hand and foot," cried Elinor. "She has a maid who follows her around with a cus.h.i.+on and a silk cover."

Komatsu, standing at the side of the motor, grinned with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"They are foolish children, aren't they, Komatsu?" observed Miss Campbell, climbing into her accustomed seat.

Nedda, hearing her name mentioned, wobbled on her uncertain old legs to the edge of the piazza and whined piteously.

"Go back to your mat, you pathetic, pampered old great grandmother,"

called Nancy.

The aged animal turned obediently and curled herself on her cus.h.i.+on. Then she lifted her wrinkled, snub-nosed face to watch the departing motorists.