20

Higekuro was very restless indeed. She must go away with him im-mediately, he said. Somewhat concerned about appearances herself, she contrived a plausible excuse with the expert assistance of her father and others and was at length able to leave.

“Goodbye, then.” The emperor seemed genuinely regretful. “Do not let anyone tell you that because this has happened you must not come again. I was the first to be interested in you and I let someone else get ahead of me. It does not seem fair that he should remain unchallenged. But there we are. I can think of precedents.” *

She was far more beautiful thin distant rumor had made her. Any man would have regretted seeing her go, and he was in a sense a rejected suitor. Not wishing her to think him light-headed and frivolous, he ad-dressed her most earnestly and did everything he could to make her feel comfortable. She understood and, though awed, wished she could stay with him.

He was still at her side when a hand carriage was brought up to take her away. Her father's men were waiting and Higekuro was making a nuisance of himself.

“You are guarded too closely,” said the emperor.

“Invisible beyond the ninefold mists,

May not the plum blossom leave its scent behind?”

It may have been that the emperor's good looks made his poem seem better than it was.

“Enamored of the fields, I had hoped to stay the night,” * he con-tinued, “but I find someone impatiently reaching to pluck the flowers. How shall I write to you?”

Sorry to have made him unhappy, she replied:

“I count not myself among the finer branches,

Yet hope that the fragrance may float upon the breeze.”

He looked back time after time as he finally made his exit.