13

The Suzaku emperor had given the Third Princess lessons on the seven-stringed Chinese koto. She was still very young when she left him, however, and he wondered what progress she might have made.

“How good if she could play for me. Perhaps in that regard at least she has grown up a little.”

He quietly let these thoughts be known and the emperor heard of them. “Yes, I should think that with the koto at least she should have made progress. How I wish I might be there.”

Genji too heard of them. “I have done what I can to teach her,” he said. “She has improved a great deal, but I wonder whether her playing is really quite good enough yet to delight the royal ear. If she goes unprepared and has to play for him, she might have a very uncomfortable time of it.”

Turning his attention now to music lessons, he kept back none of his secrets, none of the rare strains, complex medleys, and seasonal variations and tunings. She seemed uncertain at first but presently gathered confidence.

“There are always such crowds of people around in the daytime,” he said. “You have your left hand poised over the koto and are wondering what to do with it, and along comes someone with a problem. The evening is the time. I will come in the evening when it is quiet and teach you everything I know.”