12

Sometimes, when the longing was too much for Yu~giri, there would be an impassioned letter. A more experienced lady, though aware that there was no one except the man himself to question about his intentions, might have suspected posing and posturing. She found only sentiments that accorded with her own.

Her women were talking. “It seems that Prince Nakatsukasa has reached a tacit understanding with Genji and is pushing ahead with the arrangements.”

To~ no Chu~jo~ was troubled. There were tears in his eyes when, very gently, he told Kumoinokari what he had heard. “It seems very unkind of the boy. I suppose that Genji is trying to get back at me. I cannot give my consent now without looking ridiculous.”

Intensely embarrassed, she too was weeping. He thought her charm-ing as she turned away to hide her tears. He left feeling more uncertain than ever. Should he make new attempts to learn what they all were thinking?

Kumoinokari went out to the veranda. Why was it, she asked herself, that the tide of tears must be forever waxing and joy forever on the wane?

hat would her poor father be thinking?

A letter from Yu~giri came in upon the gloom. She opened it, and could detect no change in his manner.

“This coldness takes you the usual way of the world

Am I the deviant, that I cannot forget you?”

She did not like this calm refusal to say anything of his new affair. Yet she answered.

“You cannot forget, and now you have forgotten.

You are the one who goes the way of the world.”

That was all. What could she possibly mean? He looked at it from this angle and that—so one is told—and could make no sense of it.

{Wisteria Leaves}