12

“How very nice,” said To~ no Chu~jo~, motioning him to a place at the girl's curtains. “We do not see as much of you these days as we would like. You are so fearfully deep in your studies. Your father knows as well as I do that too much learning is not always a good thing, but I suppose he has his reasons. Still it seems a pity that you should be in solitary confinement. You should allow yourself diversions from time to time. Music too has a proper and venerable tradition, you know.” He offered Yu~giri a flute.

There was a bright, youthful quality about the boy's playing. To~ no Chu~jo~ put his koto aside and quietly beat time with a fan. “My sleeves were stained from the hagi,” * he hummed.

“Your father so loves music. He has abandoned dull affairs of state. Life is a gloomy enough business at best, and I would like to follow his lead and do nothing that I do not want to.”

He ordered wine. Presently it was dark. Lamps were lighted and dinner was brought.

He sent Kumoinokari off to her rooms. Yu~giri had not even been permitted to hear her koto. No good would come of these stern measures, the old women whispered.