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Updated: May 29, 2025
Billie's mind gave a sudden leap of conjecture but she continued to sit quietly, her face against the window, peering into the mist-hung garden. "Funny," she said to herself. "It couldn't have been a Japanese letter because those are rolled up on little sticks." Not long afterwards, she encountered Onoye in the passage. The Japanese girl smiled lovingly into her face.
Yoritomo, it was said, was stricken with the wildest grief. But sorrow had cleared his brain and brought him to his senses. He had made a really manly apology to Mr. Campbell and had even asked that Onoye might be restored to him. But this was not to be. Miss Campbell had taken Onoye under her wing.
She went into the library twice during the day; once for a little while in the morning, and after lunch when the servants were in the back of the house, Onoye saw her come out of the garden in a pouring rain. She marched straight to this room and locked the door behind her and here she remained until not long before we returned." "Papa, I'll never go back on Nancy," cried Billie.
Her name is 'Onoye' and she's the daughter of the cook, O'Haru. She is just one of the maids in the house, I suppose, but she seems better class and she speaks a little English. Her mother adores her and I suppose Onoye is being spoiled Japanese fashion, which is very different from American fashion.
And besides what would she want with plans for government improvements or whatever they are?" "I'm just as much in the dark as you are, Billie. I'm only telling you what O'Haru and Onoye and Komatsu told me.
But Yoritomo, ignoring these humble services, sat himself in a chair next to Nancy and little Onoye hastened to rectify her mistake. In the meantime, Nicholas Grimm was talking to Billie and Elinor. "Are you from Holland?" they asked him. "Several hundreds of years ago I was. Kinterhook, New York, has been my home for the last generation."
Little by little her feeling for Billie was growing and expanding into a real devotion, "And I'm sure I don't know why she should caress the hand that smote her," Billie had thought. "She's a dear, faithful little soul." "Are you quite well again, Onoye?" she asked, pausing and slipping her arm around the Japanese girl's shoulders. "Yes, honorable lady. Not any sickly arm no more."
"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.
"It's the third time she's been here masquerading as you, Nancy." broke in Billie. "She must have managed the disguise perfectly because the servants were fooled each time." "She did," said Mary. "I asked Onoye exactly what she looked like. She evidently had on a brown curly wig and a hat like Nancy's with a blue veil around her head."
Furthermore, Onoye had been acting very strangely toward Nancy lately. Twice she had come and stood before the American girl with downcast eyes and twice tried to say something, failed and slipped quietly away. On this wonderful Sunday morning, when the world seemed indescribably fresh and fair after the recent rains, only Nancy was sad.
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