29

He rested for a time at Rokujo~.

“We have heard from To~ no Chu~jo~'s people,” said the lady of the orange blossoms, “that you have moved the Second Princess back to Ichijo~. What can it mean?” He could see her, calm and gentle, through the curtains.

“Yes, it is the sort of thing people like to talk about. Her mother quite refused to agree to anything of the sort, but towards the end she let it be known—possibly her resolution had weakened, or possibly the thought of leaving the princess all alone was too much for her—she let it be known that I was the one the princess was to turn to. These thoughts fitted perfectly with my own intentions. And so I suppose each of the gossips has his own conclusion to the story.” He laughed. “How righteous and confident people can be in disposing of these trivialities. The princess herself says only that she wants to become a nun. I have very little hope of dissuading her. The rumors will go on in any event, and I only hope that my fidelity to her mother's dying wishes outlasts them. So I have made such arrangements as I have made. When you next see Father you might try to explain all of this to him. I have managed to keep his respect over the years, I think, and I would hate to lose it now.” He lowered his voice. “It is curious how irrelevant all the advice and all the promptings of your own conscience can sometimes seem.”

“I had not believed it. There is nothing so unusual about it, I suppose, though I do feel sorry for your lady at Sanjo~. She has had such a good life all these years.”

“'Your lady'—that is kind of you.'Your ogre' might be more to the point. But surely you cannot imagine that I would not do the right thing? You will think it impertinent of me to say so, but consider for a moment the arrangements you have here at Rokujo~. Yes, the tranquil life is what we all want. A man may dodge a noisy woman and make all the allowances, but in the end he wants to be quietly rid of her. The noise may die down but the irritation remains. Murasaki seems in many ways a very rare sort of lady. And when it comes to sweetness and docility you do not have many rivals yourself.”

She smiled. “This sort of praise makes me feel that my shortcomings must show very clearly. One thing does strike me as odd: your good father seems to think that no one has the smallest suspicion of his own delinquencies, and that yours give him a right to lecture when you are here and criticize when you are not. We have heard of sages whose wisdom does not include themselves.”

“Yes, he does lecture, indefatigably. And I am a rather careful person even in the absence of his wise advice.”

He went to Genji's rooms. Genji too had heard of these new develop-ments, but he saw no point in saying so. Waiting for Yu~giri to speak, he did not see how anyone could reprove such a handsome young man, at the very best time of life, for occasionally misbehaving. Surely the most intolerant of the powers above must feel constrained to forgive him. And he was not a child. His younger years had been blameless, and, yes, he could be forgiven these little affairs. The remarkable thing, if Genji did say so about his own son, was that the image he saw in the mirror did not give him the urge to go out and make conquest after conquest.