9
Upon the burning of his mother's house in Sanjo~, he had moved with her to Rokujo~. Niou having rooms near at hand,# he was a frequent caller, much, it would seem, to Niou's satisfaction. It was the perfect place to make one forget the troubles of the world. Even the flowers below the verandas were somehow different. The swaying grasses and trees were as elsewhere—and yet they too were different. The clear moon reflected from the brook was as in a picture. Kaoru had expected to find his friend enjoying the moonlight, and he was not disappointed. Startled at the fragrance that came in on the breeze, Niou slipped into casual court dress and otherwise put himself in order. Kaoru had stopped midway up the stairs. Not asking him to come further, Niou stepped out and leaned against the railing, and in these attitudes they talked idly of this and that. The Uji affair always on his mind, he reproved his friend for various inadequacies as a messenger. This was not at all fair, thought Kaoru. He was incapable of seizing the first thing he wanted for himself, and he could hardly be expected to worry about others. But then it occurred to him that his own cause might be advanced if matters were arranged satisfactorily for Niou, and he talked with unusual candor of what he thought might be done.
A mist came in as the dawn brightened. The air was chilly, and with the moon now hidden the shade of the trees was dark. It was a pleasant scene despite the gloom.
“The time is coming,” said the prince, “when you will not get off so easily for leaving me behind.” No doubt the gloom brought sad Uji* very near. Since Kaoru gave no evidence of eagerness, Niou offered a poem:
“All the wide field abloom with maiden flowers!
Why must you string a rope to keep us out?”
In a similarly bantering tone, Kaoru replied:
“The maiden flowers on the misty morning field+
Are set aside for those who bestir themselves. And,” he said, smiling, “there are not many such enterprising people.”
“How utterly shameless!” #
Though long importuned by his friend, Kaoru had wondered whether Nakanokimi could meet this most rigorous of tests. Now he knew that she was at least the equal of her sister. He had feared, too, that her disposition might upon close inspection prove to have its defects, and he was sure now that there was nothing for which he need apologize. Though it might seem cruel to go against Oigimi's wishes, his own affections did not seem prepared to jump lightly to her sister. He must see that Nakanokimi went to his friend. So he would overcome the resentment of both of them, prince and princess.
Unaware of these thoughts, Niou was calling him shameless. It was very amusing.
“We must remember,” said Kaoru, his manner somewhat patronizing, “that you have given us little cause to admire you for your fidelity.”
“Just you wait and see,” answered Niou most earnestly. “I have never liked anyone else half as well, I swear it.”
“And I see few signs that they are about to capitulate. You have given me a formidable assignment.”
Yet he proceeded to describe in great detail his thoughts about an expedition to Uji.