12

The next day was the first of the Fourth Month. All his brothers set off in court finery, and he spent the day brooding in his room. His mother

ed to weep. Yu~giri, though sympathetic, was more resigned and sensible. It was quite proper, he said, that Tamakazura should respect the Reizei emperor's wishes.

“I doubt that I would have been refused if I had really pleaded your case. I am sorry.”

As he so often did, the boy replied with a sad poem:

“Spring went off with the blossoms that left the trees.

I wander lost under trees in mournful leaf.”

His agents, among the more important women in attendance upon Tamakazura and her daughters, had not given up. “I do feel sorry for him,” said Chu~jo~. “He says that he is teetering between life and death, and he may just possibly mean it.”

His parents had interceded for him, and Tamakazura had thought of consoling him, inconsolable though he held himself to be, with another daughter. She began to fear that he would make difficulties for the older daughter. Higekuro had said that she should not go to a commoner of however high rank. She was going to a former emperor and even so Tamakazura was not happy. In upon her worries came another letter, delivered by one of the lieutenant's sentimental allies.

Tamakazura had a quick answer:

“At last I understand. This mournful mien

Conceals a facile delight with showy blossoms.”

“That is not kind, my lady.”

But she had too much on her mind to think of revising it.