14

His new circumstances had made the Nijo~ house seem rather cramped. He moved into his grandmother's Sanjo~ house, which was of course a place of fond memories. It had been neglected since her death and extensive repairs were necessary. His grandmother's rooms, redecorated, became his own personal rooms. The garden badly needed pruning. The shrubbery was out of control and a “sheaf of grass” * did indeed threaten to take over the garden. He had the weeds cleared from the brook, which gurgled pleasantly once more.

He was sitting out near the veranda with Kumoinokari one beautiful evening. Memories of their years apart were always with them, though she, at least, would have preferred not to remember that all these women had had their thoughts in the matter. Yu~giri had summoned various women who had lived in odd corners of the house since Princess Omiya's death. It was for them a very happy reunion.

Said Yu~giri:

“Clearest of brooks, you guard these rocks, this house.

Where has she gone whose image you once reflected?”

And Kumoinokari:

“We see the image no more. How is it that

These pools among the rocks yet seem so happy?”

Having heard that the garden was in its autumn glory, To~ no Chu~jo~ stopped by on his way from court. New life had come to the sedate old house, not much changed from his mother's day. A slight flush on his cheeks, Yu~giri too was thinking of the old princess. Yes, said To~ no Chu~jo~ to himself, they were a well-favored pair, one of them, he might add, more so than the other. While Kumoinokari was distinguished but not unique, Yu~giri was without rivals. The old women were having a delightful time, and the conversation flowed on and on.

To~ no Chu~jo~ looked at the poems that lay scattered about. “I would like to ask these same questions of your brook,” he said, brushing away a tear, “but I rather doubt that you would welcome my senile meanderings.

“The ancient pine is gone. That need not surprise us—

For see how gnarled and mossy is its seedling.”

Saisho~, Yu~giri's old nurse, was not quite ready to forget old grievances. It was with a somewhat satisfied look that she said:

“I now am shaded by two splendid trees

Whose roots were intertwined when they were seedlings.”

It was an old woman's poem. Yu~giri was amused, and Kumoinokari embarrassed.