"But I don't mean that way--they--they could see the shape of my--my
legs," said Ethel, blushing crimson.

"Are you ashamed that your body has such vulgar parts?" returned the
older woman.

"No, of course not," said Ethel, choking back her embarrassment.
"But it's wicked for a girl to let men know such things."

"Oh, they all know it," replied Madame Oshima, "they learn it in
school."

At this the highly strung Ethel burst into sobs.

"There, there now," said her companion, regretting that she had
spoken sarcastically. "I forget that I once had such ideas also.
We'll talk some more about it after while. You are nervous and
worried now and must have more rest."

The next day Madame Oshima more tactfully approached the subject and
showed her protege that while in Rome it was more modest to do as
the Romans do; and that, moreover, it was necessary for her own good
and theirs that she attract as little attention as possible, and to
those that recognized her Caucasian blood appear, superficially, at
least, as a naturalized citizen of Japan.

So, amid blushes and tears, protestations and laughter, Ethel
accepted the kimo, or one-piece Japanese garment, and the outer
flowing cloak to be worn on state occasions when freedom of bodily
movement was not required. Her feather-adorned hat was discarded