Tetsujo, although the first to arrive, remained in his kuruma, while Iriya and Yuki made haste to descend. The former went at once to the gate, pulling aside a thin wooden panel. A little gate-bell jangled, and at the musical summons wooden-shod feet were heard, running down the pathway from the house. Old Suzumé, shrivelled, yellow, her black eyes darting excitement everywhere, fell on her knees in the gateway. She began immediately to mutter a jumble of ceremonious phrases, in the pauses drawing her breath with ferocious energy. Behind her showed a moon-faced maiden, who stared first, as if bewildered, and then suddenly fell to the earth beside Suzumé. "That is sufficient," said Tetsujo, now descending and pushing between them as he entered the gate. "Here, Suzumé, take my purse, and let these good rascals rob us as little as possible. Go within, Maru, and prepare to remove the foreign shoes from the feet of your young mistress." Maru, quaking like a jelly, as she always did when addressed directly by the "august master," obeyed instantly, and knelt at the stone house-step to receive the shoes. Suzumé unwillingly remained at the gate to haggle with the three jinrikisha men. When the shoes were reverently drawn off, dusted on Maru's blue striped apron, and set side by side on the stone step, the little handmaid disappeared around the corner of the house. A moment later was heard the scurrying of soft stockinged feet within. Yuki stretched a hand toward the closed shoji. "No, dear, wait an instant," said Iriya, hurriedly interposing. "Let Maru San open the shoji. She has been rehearsing this for a year." Yuki drew back. "I have forgotten so many things," she murmured, flushing. "They are not lost; they will spring quickly in the warm rain of home love," said Tetsujo, behind them. The shoji were sliding apart, both at once, with noiseless precision. In the opening Maru's globe-like countenance beamed. Now, for the first time, Iriya performed the equivalent of an introduction. "Maru San," she said, in her pleasant voice, "this is our o jo san (honorable young lady of the house), Onda Yuki-ko, for whom we have been longing." "Hai, o jo san! Go kigen y[=o]! Irasshai!" palpitated the little servant, asking her to enter. "I have written you often of Maru," Iriya went on, turning to her daughter. Tetsujo brushed unceremoniously through the group, and strode alone to the big corner guest-room at the rear. "She is the orphaned child of Suzumé's dead husband's stepson," continued Iriya, placidly. "About two years ago she was left quite destitute, so of course her natural home was here. Maru is a good girl, and of much help to us." "Ah, Mistress, Mistress," cried old Suzumé, nearly tripping on her clogs to reach them, "you know well that Maru is a very cat in the sun for laziness." The speaker struggled hard to look severe. "Hai, hai," said Maru, in deprecating confirmation, and bobbed over to the matting.