25

Ashamed of his blue robes and in general feeling rather out of things, he had been staying away from court. For the festivities, however, regulations assigning colors to ranks had been relaxed. He was mature for his years, and as he strolled around the palace in his bright robes he was perhaps the most remarked-upon lad present. Even the emperor noticed him.

The dancers were at their best for the formal presentation, but everyone said that Genji's dancer and the Lord Inspector's were the prettiest and the best dressed. It was very difficult to choose between the two of them, though perhaps a certain dignity gave the nod to Koremitsu's daughter. She was so lavishly and stylishly dressed that one would have been hard put to guess her origins. The dancers being older than in most years, the festival seemed somehow grander.

Genji remembered a Gosechi dancer to whom he had once been at-tracted.* After the dances he got off a note to her. The reader will perhaps guess its contents, which included this poem:

“What will the years have done to the maiden, when he

Who saw her heavenly sleeves is so much older?”

It was a passing thought as he counted over the years, but she was touched that he should have felt constrained to write.

This was her reply:

“Garlands in my hair, warm sun to melt the frost,

So very long ago. It seems like yesterday.”

The blue paper was the blue of the dancers' dress, and the hand, subtly shaded in a cursive style to conceal the identity of the writer, was better than one would have expected from so modest a rank.

That glimpse of Koremitsu's daughter had excited Yu~giri. He wan-dered about with certain thoughts in his mind, but was not permitted near. Still too young to devise stratagems for breaching the blockade, he felt very sorry for himself. She was pretty indeed and could be a consolation for the loss of Kumoinokari.