26

Kaoru continued to fret over Niou's presence at Nijo~. How stupid, how undisciplined he was, he told himself again. He had undertaken to see that she was looked after, and what right had he now to be jealous? Forcing his thoughts in a new direction, he managed a certain semblance of happiness at this evidence that Rokujo~ had not overwhelmed her. He thought of the somewhat dowdy women in attendance upon her and decided to consult with his mother.

“I wonder if you might have a few clothes you don't need just at the moment? I know a house that could use something decent.”

“I believe that some things will be coming for the services next month,* but the dyers have been so busy. Suppose we send off a order.”

“Please don't bother. Whatever you have ready will do.”

He sent off to see what the seamstresses had on hand and was offered a wide selection of women's robes, some fine cloaks, and several bolts of undyed silk and damask. For the princess herself he found a red singlet in Iris own stores, the gloss from the fulling mallets uncommonly fine, and numerous garments of white damask and the like. Though he had no women's trousers, he did come upon an ingenious cord, which he knotted, and, with this poem, added to the collection:

“I shall not go on always and always resenting

The cord that now has bound you to another.”

He sent them all to Tayu~, an elderly serving woman with whom he was on good terms.

“Here are some bits and scraps I happened to find lying about. Hand them out quietly, please, as seems appropriate.”

Though not so as to make a great show of the matter, he had the gifts for Nakanokimi wrapped with special care. Tayu~ was used to these attentions, and she neither gave the princess a full report nor thought it necessary to stand on formality and return the gifts. Taxing herself no further with these refinements, she distributed the cloth to the women, and they set about making new clothes for themselves. It was only right that the better materials should go to the young women in immediate attendance upon the princess. The menials, who were beginning to have trouble hiding their tatters, caught the eye the more pleasingly for the modesty of the unlined white robes in which they now were dressed. Who but Kaoru, they asked, would have thought of all this? Niou was warmhearted enough, and would of course not let them starve; but he had no eye for the fine details that made all the difference in running a household. The pampered darling of the whole world, he was not very keenly aware of its sorrows and frustrations, of its persistent refusal to go in every respect as one would wish. For him “cold” signified nothing more piercing than the touch of dew, and life was a gay parade of style and elegance. Yet, given the circumstances, he _was_ considerate, seeing to fairly routine matters with the passing of the seasons, provided they concerned someone of whom he was fond. A few of his women, including his nurse, thought indeed that he occasionally went too far. Nakanokimi was, all the same, embarrassed at the shabbiness of her retinue, and she sometimes feared that a mansion so fine only set her off to incongruous effect. And there were Rokunokimi and her household to be considered, the luxury and extravagance that were the talk of the day. To Niou's men the Nijo~ house must seem scarcely fit for human habitation. Kaoru observed and understood, and, though he would have hated to be thought discourteous or unfeeling in sending off garments so unremarkable that he would not have dreamed of letting a stranger have them, he had to keep certain notions of propriety in mind. What would people have said if he had sent the products of the greatest cutters and weavers in the land? And so, with his usual care and sobriety, he had had a collection neither extravagant nor mean put together, including a robe woven especially for Nakanokimi, and damasks and other fineries. He too was the spoiled pet of the great, his manner so proud that some might have called it aloof and arrogant, his tastes such as might, at times, have seemed overrefined. The Eighth Prince's mountain dwelling, its solitude and melancholy, had wrought a great change in him and led him to an awareness of the tears of ordinary life. In rather sad ways the prince had been of service!