7

Kaoru knew very well that they called him “Lord Proper,” and he was not at all proud of the title.

The chamberlain, Tamakazura's youngest son, was not yet on the regular court rosters and had no New Year calls to make. Refreshments were served on trays of delicate sandalwood. Tamakazura was thinking that though Yu~giri looked more and more like Genji as the years went by, Kaoru did not really look like him at all. Yet there was an undeniable nobility in his manner and bearing. Perhaps the young Genji had been like him. It was the sort of thought that always reduced her to pensive silence.

The women were chattering about the remarkable fragrance he had left behind.

No, Kaoru did not really like being Lord Proper. Late in the month the plum blossoms were at their best. Thinking it a good time to show them all that they had misjudged him, he went off to visit the apartments of the young chamberlain, Tamakazura's son. Coming in through the garden gate, he saw that another young gentleman had preceded him. Also in casual court dress, the other did not want to be seen, but Kaoru recognized and hailed him. It was Yu~giri's son the lieutenant, very frequently to be found on the premises. Exciting sounds of lute and Chinese koto were coming from the west rooms. Kaoru was feeling somewhat uncomfortable and somewhat guilty as well. The uninvited guest was not his favorite role.

“Come,” he said, when there was a pause in the music. “Be my guide. I am a complete stranger.”

Side by side under the plum at the west gallery, they serenaded the ladies with “A Branch of Plum.” * As if to invite this yet fresher perfume inside, someone pushed open a corner door and there was a most skillful accompaniment on a Japanese koto. Astonished and pleased that a lady should be so adept at a _ryo_ key,+ they repeated the song. The lute too was delightfully fresh and clear. It seemed to be a house given over to elegant pursuits. Kaoru was less diffident than usual.

A Japanese koto was pushed towards him from under the blinds. Each of the visitors deferred to the other so insistently that the issue was finally resolved by Tamakazura, who sent out to Kaoru through her son:

“I have heard that your playing resembles that of my father, the late chancellor, and would like nothing better than to hear it. The warbler has favored us this evening. Can you not be persuaded to do as well?”

He would look rather silly biting his finger like a bashful stripling. Though without enthusiasm, he played a short strain on the koto, from which he coaxed an admirably rich tone.

Tamakazura had not been close to her father, To~ no Chu~jo~, but she missed him, and trivial little incidents were always reminding her of him. And how very much Kaoru did remind her of her late brother Kashiwagi. She could almost have sworn that it was his koto she was listening to. She was in tears—perhaps they come more easily as one grows older.

The lieutenant continued the concert with “This House.” # He had a fine voice and he was in very good form this evening. The concert had a gay informality that would not have been possible had there been elderly and demanding connoisseurs in the assembly. Everyone wanted to take part in it, and the music flowed on and on. The chamberlain seemed to resemble his father, Higekuro. He preferred wine to music, at which he was not very good.

“Come, now. Silence is not permitted. Something cheerful and con-gratulatory.”

And so, with someone to help him, he sang “Bamboo River.” * Though immature and somewhat awkward, it was a commendable enough per-formance.

A cup was pushed towards Kaoru from under the blinds. He was in no hurry to take it.

“I have heard it said that people talk too much when they drink too much. Is that what you have in mind?”

She had a New Year's gift for him, a robe and cloak from her own wardrobe, most alluringly scented.

“More and more purposeful,” he said, making as if to return it through her son. “There were all those other parties for the carolers,” + he added, deftly turning aside their efforts to keep him on.