 | Purple-Eyes |  |
V THE PLAINTIVE TEMPLE BELLS
The next day they went up to the temple on the mountain-side, the plaintive bells of which Garland had heard. Purple-Eyes was tall, and walked with less difficulty than most Japanese girls, so they walked. It was a day of dreams. Garland remembered afterward the smell of the incense, the voices of the chanting bonzes, that the tea-house on the mountain-side where they rested called itself the House of the Seven Golden Crystals; the rest was Purple-Eyes and happiness. Japan had been growing upon him for three months, and now unhappiness made but little impression.
The day remained in his mind with the sum of his dreams this lotus-eating, nectar-drinking, happy-go-lucky Garland!
Thus it curiously went on. One day it was Black-Eyes, and the true Japan, and the real Garland. The next it was Purple-Eyes, and the ideal Japan, and the lotus-eating Garland. What is more like lotus-eating than being adored? At first Garland used to smile at the strange dual life which circumstances had wrought out for him. Then he used to wonder which was better. Later he tried to decide only which he liked better. Now he no longer differentiated at all. His analytical edge was quite dulled. Still, he had heard that this fever of Japan always wore off. Some said it lasted as long as two years, some said five; no one had said ten. And what then?
"Why, then? Me!"
He had spoken the last three words aloud, and they had been answered by the laughing, dewy-eyed subject of them.
He looked at her.
"Well, one ought to be content," he laughed.
"An' you content?" she smiled back.
He did not answer at once.
"Do you know that you have been growing more bewitching every day since "
"Sinze you an' joy came at Japan?"
From the opened shoji she flung him the gay greeting he had taught her, and disappeared; for it was Black-Eyes' day, and she had yet to dress for her work.
That day he harbored madly the notion of marriage with Purple-Eyes and a residence in Japan. It had quite infected him before night, and was distinctly, but less and less strongly, in his mind for several days. But then came a letter from his elder brother, in answer to his own of a rather confessional and emotional sort, asking him what he meant by living upon three working-women. It told him to go away to the devil anywhere but away from there. It was like a cold douche. The fever Japonica, as every one had said, was at last gone. So small a thing as his brother's letter had cured it. Now he smiled. He had meant to write to Miss Warburton, offering to release her.
| Purple-Eyes | |