Mrs. Chan appeared, stiff in her best black silk, and very careful about her English. A number of the older children entered and were ceremoniously presented.
“I will not burden you with entire roll-call,” Chan explained. “The matter would, I fear, come to be an ordeal.” He spoke of his eldest daughter, Rose, away at college on the mainland. His voice softened, and his eyes took on a look of sadness. If Rose were here—Rose, the flower of his flock—how well she would meet this situation, which had somewhat upset his wife’s accustomed calm.
An aged woman servant appeared in the doorway and said something in a high shrill voice. They moved on into the dining-room, where Charlie explained that he was giving them a Hawaiian dinner, rather than a Chinese. The initial stiffness wore off, Mrs. C
