7

Genji, he was told, was with his daughter.

Murasaki had been given charge of the Third Prince, now three, the prettiest of Genji's royal grandchildren. He came running up.

“If you're going over there, General, take my royal highness with you.”

Yu~giri smiled at this immodest language. “If you wish to go. But am I to walk past a lady's curtains without a by-your-leave? That would be very rude.” He took the little prince in his arms.

“No one will see. Look, I'll cover your face. Let's go, let's go.”

He was charming as he covered Yu~giri's face with his sleeves. The two of them went off to the Akashi princess's apartments. The Second Prince was there, as was Genji's little son. Genji was fondly watching them at play. Yu~giri deposited the Third Prince in a corner, where the Second Prince discovered him.

“Carry me too, General,” he commanded.

“He's my general,” objected the Third Prince, refusing to dismiss him.

“Don't you have any manners, the two of you?” said Genji. “He is supposed to guard your father, and you are appropriating him for your-selves. And you, young sir,” he said to the Third Prince, “are just a little too pushy. You are always trying to get the best of your brother.”

“And the other one,” said Yu~giri, “is very much the big brother, always willing to give way if it seems the right thing. Such a fine young gentleman that I'm already a little afraid of him.”

Genji smiled. They were both of them very fine lads indeed. “But come. This is no place for an important official to be wasting his time.”

He started off towards the east wing, trailing children behind him. His own little boy ought not to be so familiar with the princes—but the usual awareness of such things told him that any sort of discrimination would hurt the Third Princess. She had a bad conscience and was easily hurt. He too was a very pretty boy, and Genji had grown fond of him.

Yu~giri had seen very little of the boy. Picking up a fallen cherry branch he motioned towards the blinds. The boy came running out. He had on but a single robe, of a deep purple. The fair skin glowed, and there was in the round little figure something, an extraordinary refinement, that rather outdid the princes. Perhaps, thought Yu~giri, he had chanced to catch an unusual angle; but it did seem to him that there was remarkable strength in the eyes, and the arch of the eyebrows reminded him very much of Kashiwagi. And that sudden glow when he laughed—perhaps, thought Yu~giri, he had caught a very rare moment—but Genji must surely have noticed. He really must do a bit of probing.

The princes were princes, already proud and courtly, but they had the faces of pretty children, no more. I he other boy, he thought, looking from one child to another, had a most uncommon face and manner. How very sad. To~ no Chu~jo~, half lost to the world, kept asking why no one came demanding to be recognized as Kashiwagi's son, why there were no keepsakes. If Yu~giri's suspicions were well founded, then to keep the secret from the bereaved grandfather would be a sin. But Yu~giri could not be sure. He still had no real solution to the puzzle, nothing to go on. He was delighted with the child, who seemed unusually gentle and affectionate.