As soon as Ethel was up and about, her hostess suggested that she
exchange her American-made clothing for the Japanese costume of the
time. But Ethel was inclined to rebel.

"Why," she protested, "if I discarded my corsets I would lose my
figure."

"But have I lost my figure?" inquired the lithe Madame Oshima,
striking an attitude.

To this Ethel did not reply, but continued, "And I would look like a
man," for among the Japanese people tight-belted waists and flopping
skirts had long since been replaced by the kimo, a single-piece
garment worn by both sexes and which fitted the entire body with
comfortable snugness.

"And is a man so ill-looking?" asked her companion, smiling.

"Why, no, of course not, only he's different. Why, I couldn't wear a
kimo--people would see--my limbs," stammered the properly-bred
American girl.

"Why, no, they couldn't," replied Madame Oshima. "Not if you keep
your kimo on."

"But they would see my figure."

"Well, I thought you just said that was what you were afraid they
wouldn't see."