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Harbison who first noticed Takahiro. Jimmy's Jap had been the only thing in the menage that Bella declared she had hated to leave. But he was doing the strangest things: his little black eyes shifted nervously, and he looked queer. "What's wrong with him?" Mr. Harbison asked me finally, when he saw that I noticed. "Is he ill?"
"You see, something queer has happened. You know this is the anniversary well, you know what it is and Jim was awfully glum. So we thought we would come " "What are you driving at?" she demanded. "You are sea-green, Kit. What's the matter? You needn't think I mind because Jim has a jollification to celebrate his divorce." "It it was Takahiro in the ambulance," I blurted. "Smallpox.
If I had only turned her out as she deserved to be, when she first came, instead of allowing her to carry through the wretched farce about seeing Takahiro! Or if I had only run to the basement the moment the house was quarantined, and got her out the areaway or the coal hole!
It was in disgraceful order, and one of the bottles of wine that had ben banished from the dining room sat half empty on the floor. "Drunk!" Bella said with conviction. But I didn't think so. There had not been time enough, for one thing. Suddenly I remembered the ambulance that had been the cause of Bella's appearance for no one could believe her silly story about Takahiro.
"I was coming home to be miserable alone," he went on, "and oh, I know you meant well, Kit; but YOU asked all these crazy people here." "Perhaps you will give me credit for some things," I said wearily. "I did NOT give Takahiro smallpox, for instance, and if you will permit me to mention the fact Aunt Selina is not MY Aunt Selina."
As every one wanted to laugh, every one did it then, and under cover of the noise I caught Anne's eye, and we left the dining room. The men stayed, and by the very firmness with which the door closed behind us, I knew that Dallas and Max were bringing out the bottles that Takahiro had hidden. I was seething. It was as I had expected.
"I was passing in the motor," she said, and I honestly think she hoped I would believe her, "and I saw that am " She stopped and began again. "I thought Jim was out of town, and I came to see Takahiro," she said brazenly. "He was devoted to me, and Evans is going to leave. I'll tell you what to do, Kit. I'll go back to the dining room, and you send Taka there.
If any one comes, I can slip into the pantry." "It's immoral," I protested. "It's immoral to steal your " "My own butler!" she broke in impatiently. "You're not usually so scrupulous, Kit. Hurry! I hear that hateful Anne Brown." So we slid back along the hall, and I rang for Takahiro. But no one came.
Tahara was talked about and orders promptly came through for him to return to Japan. This was in 1936. Half a year later, a suave Japanese named Takahiro Wakabayashi appeared in Panama as the representative of the Federation of Japanese Importers and Exporters, the same organization under a slightly changed name.
"Do you know," she said ominously, "that you have been away for two hours; and that I have gone through agonies of nervousness for fear Jim Wilson would come down and think I came here to see him?" "No one would think that, Bella," I soothed her. "Everybody knows you loathe him Jim, too." She looked at me over the edge of her cup. "I'll run along now," she said, "since Takahiro isn't here.
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