7

As the night drew on, a high wind set the badly fitted shutters to rattling. It was fortunate—not as much stealth was needed as on a quieter night. She led him to the princesses' room. The two were sleeping together; but they always slept together, and she could hardly have separated them for this one night. Kaoru knew them well enough, she was sure, to tell one from the other.

But Oigimi, still awake, sensed his approach, and slipped out through the bed curtains. Poor Nakanokimi lay quietly sleeping. What was to be done? Oigimi was in consternation. If only the two of them could hide together—but she was quaking with fear, and could not bring herself to go back. Then, in the dim light, a figure in a singlet pulled the curtains aside and came into the room quite as if he owned it. Whatever would her hapless sister think if she were to awaken? thought Oigimi, huddled in the cramped space between a screen and a shabby wall. Nakanokimi had rebelled at the very hint that there might be plans for her—and how shocked and resentful she would be if it were to appear now that they had all plotted against her. Oigimi was quite beside herself. It had all happened because they had no one to protect them from a harsh world. Her sorrow and her longing for her father were so intense that it was as if he were here beside her now, exactly as he had made his last farewell in the evening twilight.

Thinking that the old woman had arranged it so, Kaoru was delighted to find a lady sleeping alone. Then he saw that it was not Oigimi. It was a fresher, more winsome, superficially more appealing young lady. Nakanokimi was awake now, and in utter terror. She had been no part of a plot against him, poor girl, it was clear; but pity for her was mixed with anger and resentment at the one who had fled. Nakanokimi was no stranger, of course, but he did not take much comfort from that fact. Mixed with the chagrin was a fear lest Oigimi think he had been less than serious. Well, he would let the night pass, and if it should prove his fate to marry Nakanokimi—she was not, as he had noted, a stranger. Thus composing himself, he lay down beside her, and passed the night much as he had the earlier one with her sister.

Their plans had worked beautifully, said the old woman. But where might Nakanokimi be? It would be odd of her, to say the least, to spend the night with the other two.

“Well, wherever she is, I'm sure she knows what she's doing.”

“Such a fine young gentleman, making our wrinkles go away just by glancing in our direction. He's exactly what every woman has always asked for. Why does she have to be so standoffish?”

“Oh, no reason, really. Something's been at her, as they say. She's hexed.”

Some of the remarks that came from the toothless mouths were not entirely charitable.

They did not pass unchallenged. “Hexed! Now that's a nice thing to say, as good as asking for bad luck. No, I can tell you what it is. She had a strange bringing up, that's all, way off here in the hills with no one to tell her about things. Men scare her. You'll see—she'll be friendly enough when she gets used to him. It's bound to happen.”

“Let's hope it happens soon, and something good happens to us for a change.”

So they talked on as they got ready for bed, and soon there were loud snores.

Though “the company” * may not have had a great deal to do with the matter, it seemed to Kaoru that the autumn night had been quick to end.

He was beginning to wonder which of the princesses appealed to him more. If, at his departure, his desires were left unsatisfied, he had no one to blame but himself.

“Remember me,” he said as he left Nakanokimi, “and do not deceive yourself that she is someone to imitate.” And he vowed that they would meet again.

It had been like a strange dream. Mustering all his self-control, for he wanted to have another try at the icy one, he went back to the room assigned him the night before and lay down.

Bennokimi hurried to the princesses' room. “Very, very strange,” she said, thinking Oigimi the one she saw there. “Where will my other lady be?”

Nakanokimi lay consumed with embarrassment. What could it all mean? She was angry, too, reading deep significance into her sister's re-marks of the day before.

As the morning grew brighter, the cricket came from the wall.

Oigimi knew what her sister would be thinking, and the pity and the sorrow were too much for her. Neither sister was able to speak. So the last veil had been stripped away, thought Oigimi. One thing was clear: theirs was a world in which not a single unguarded moment was possible.

Bennokimi went to Kaoru's room and at length learned of the uncom-mon obstinacy of which he had been the victim. She was very sorry for him, and she thought he had a right to be angry.

“I have put up with it all because I have thought there might be hope. But after last night, I really feel as if I should jump in the river. The one thing that holds me back is the memory of their father and how he hated to leave them behind. Well, that is that. I shall not bother them again— not, of course, that I am likely to forget the insult. I gather that Niou is forging ahead without a glance to the left or the right. I can understand how a young lady in her place might feel. A man is a man, and she might as well aim for the highest. I think I shall not show myself again for all of you to laugh at. My only request is that you talk about this idiocy as little as possible.”

Today there were no regretful looks backward. How sad, whispered the women, for both of them.