patriotism. He is very jealous of his country's honor, you understand.
You will look at the history of other countries. First it is only a few
foreigners; then more and more. They slip into the government. They
spread their ideas and customs--they get a foot-hold--then--all of a
sudden, what is it? Not Japan any longer--but--America--England."

"Oh, come off, Yoritomo," cried Nicholas, laughing. "What in the name of
all the powers are you driving at? There are about forty millions of
people on this island and I guess a few foreigners won't make much
headway in such a bunch as that."

"At least, you are not afraid of being Americanized, Mr. Ito," broke in
Nancy, "since you were educated in America."

"I am not afraid of the invasion of beautiful American young ladies,"
answered Yoritomo gallantly, and the others laughed and felt somewhat
relieved that the conversation had drifted into a less serious vein. They
drew their chairs into a circle about the fire and talked pleasantly for
some time, when they were summoned back to the drawing-room by Mr.
Campbell, who reminded Elinor of a promise she had made to him to sing
for them with her guitar.

This performance was a subject of wondering curiosity to the servants of
the household. Through the door to the dining-room Elinor caught a
glimpse of a multitude of natives crouched on the floor behind the
screen, including Komatsu and O'Haru, all the little maids, the
numerous grandmothers, and the 'riksha men who had brought the guests out
from Tokyo. If the music seemed strange to the Japanese ear trained for
centuries to a curious uneven scale, at least they admired Elinor's
lovely voice, clear and sweet as a bell. She had a large repertoire and