38

Kashiwagi was lost in thought. From time to time he would look vacantly up at the cherries.

Yu~giri thought he understood. His friend must agree, he was also thinking, that it was unseemly for so fine a lady to step forward into such an exposed position. Murasaki would never have been so careless. Yu~giri could see, he feared, why Genji's esteem for the princess seemed to fall rather short of that of the world in general. This childlike insouciance was no doubt charming, but it might cause trouble.

Kashiwagi was not thinking about the princess's defects. He had seen her accidentally and very briefly, to be sure, but he had most certainly seen her. He was telling himself that there had to be a bond between them and that the steadfastness of his devotion was being rewarded.

“To~ no Chu~jo~ and I were always in competition,” said Genji, in a reminiscent mood, “and football was the one thing I never succeeded in besting him at. It may seem flippant to speak of a football heritage, but I really believe that there must be such a thing, unusual talent handed down in a family. You quite dazzled us, sir.”

Kashiwagi smiled. “I doubt that the honor will mean very much to our descendants.”

“Surely you are wrong. Everything that is genuinely outstanding de-serves to be chronicled. This would be a most interesting and edifying item for a family chronicle.”

Kashiwagi was wondering what sort of charms would be required to impress the wife of a man so youthful and handsome, to win her pity and sympathy. He was overwhelmed by sudden and hopeless feelings of in-feriority.