Yes, she remembered the boy--he had light hair, and blue eyes that
laughed, and he was a big, big boy and carried her on his shoulder.

She sat with the folded letter clasped carefully in her hands and gave
herself up to joyous anticipation. A foreign guest was coming to stay
two whole months in her house; after that she was to be married and
wear her beautiful kimono, and give rich gifts to her father and
mother.

Surely Buddha was caring for her! There had been grave moments of
doubt about it since she left the mission-school, for he had never
seemed to listen, though she prayed him night and day. But he had been
only waiting to send all her happiness at once--he was a good god,
kind and thoughtful. To-morrow, before the sun touched the big
pine-tree on the mountain-top, she would go to the temple and tell
him so.

Yuki San's plans found favor with her parents, chiefly because of
their great desire to give her pleasure, and incidentally because the
board of the foreigner would swell the fund that was needed for her
marriage.

The plighted maid to them was already the wife, and the danger of a
youthful heart defying tradition and clearing the bars of
conventionality to reach its own desire was something unknown to these
simple people. The child wished the foreigner to come--they could give
her few pleasures--she should have her desire.

The sending of the telegram was the first exciting thing to be