women is their greatest strength. This woman knew how to obey. In her
way she had learned to love, but her limited capacity for affection was
consumed by wifehood. Having married and borne a child to the man who
required nothing of her, duty in life so far as she saw it was
canceled. Further effort on her part was unnecessary until the time for
her to assert her power as mother-in-law.

Even the contemplation of that happy state failed to enthuse. Languid
and a bit sad, her hold on life was gone. The blight had come. On her
frail beauty was stamped the sign of the white plague. She greeted me in
very broken English, then left the chief duty of entertaining to the
mother. The stilted conversation was after the prescribed form and my
eagerness to see Zura, whom custom forbade my asking for, was, I dare
say, ill concealed.

When I first entered, the farther parts of the large room were veiled in
the shadow of the late afternoon. But when Mrs. Kishimoto called, "Zura,
come!" a stream of sunlight, as though waiting for the proper time,
danced into one corner and rested on the figure of a young girl, sitting
awkwardly on her feet, reading.

Her response to her grandmother's command was none too eager; but as she
came forward the brilliant light revealed in coloring of hair and dress
as many shades of brown as could be found in a pile of autumn leaves. In
the round eyes, deep set in a face sprinkled with freckles, in the
impertinent tilt of the nose, there was no trace of the Orient; but the
high arch of the dark brows betrayed her Japanese origin.

The girl's costume was more remarkable than the girl herself; it was
like a velvet pillow slip with neither beginning nor end. It was low in