3

Perhaps his patience had been rewarded. To~ no Chu~jo~ seemed to be relenting. He continued to seek a proper occasion, neither too ostentatious nor too casual, for a reconciliation.

Early in the Fourth Month the wisteria at To~ no Chu~jo~'s veranda came into profuse bloom, of a subtly richer hue than most wisteria. He arranged a concert, thinking that it must not go unnoticed. As the colors mounted richer in the twilight, he sent Kashiwagi with a note.

“It was a pity that we were not permitted a more leisurely talk under the cherry blossoms. If you are free, I would be most honored to see you.

“Come join me in regrets for the passing of spring

And wisteria now aglow in the evening light.”

It was attached to a magnificent spray of the flower.

Restraining his excitement at the letter awaited so long, Yu~giri sent back a polite answer:

“I grope my way through the gathering shades of evening

With no great hopes of coming upon wisteria.”

“I am not sure I have struck the right note,” he said to Kashiwagi. “Would you look it over, please?”

“All that is required of you is that you come with me.”

“You are far too grand an escort.”

He sent Kashiwagi ahead and went to show Genji the letter.

“I think he must have his reasons,” said Genji, who seemed pleased with himself. “I had thought that he was not showing proper respect towards his late mother, but this changes things.”

“I doubt that it is so very important. Everyone says that his wisteria is very fine this year. I imagine that he was bored and arranged a concert in its honor.”

“He sent a very special messenger, in any event. You must go.”

And so a nervous Yu~giri had his father's blessing.

“It would not do to overdress,” Genji continued. “A magenta would be all right, I suppose, if you were not yet on the council or if you were between offices. Do please dress very carefully.” He sent one of Yu~giri's men with a fine robe and several singlets from his own wardrobe.