4

At about noon one day early in the New Year, when Niou was playing with the child, now in its second year, a little girl came bounding in and handed the princess a rather fat letter in a fine, cream-colored envelope. With it were a small “whiskered basket” * attached to an artificial seedling pine, and a second letter, more formally folded.

“And where might they be from?” asked Niou.

“The man said from Uji, for Madame Tayu~. I didn't know what to do with them, and I thought my lady might like to see them. She always does.” The girl was confused. “Just look at this basket, will you. Metal, and it's colored all over. And look at this pine. Look at the branches. You might think it was real.”

She smiled, and Niou smiled back. “Yes, do let me have a look at it.”

“Take them to Tayu~ immediately.” Nakanokimi flushed. She did not want him to read the letters.

Would they be from Kaoru? They did look like women's letters, but he could easily have disguised them, and Uji would have been an apt choice for their source. He took one of them up. But he too was confused. He hoped that his suspicions would not prove correct.

“I'm going to open it. Will you be angry with me?”

“It's not good manners to look at private notes between women.” Nakanokimi managed to seem unconcerned.

“You really must let me see them. What might it be like, I wonder, a letter from one woman to another?”

“I have been very remiss about writing, and here we are, going into the New Year. Our gloomy mountains offer no break in the winter mists.” The hand was that of a very young woman.” These are cheap trinkets, but give them to the little prince, if you will.”

There was nothing remarkable about the letter. But he was curious to know who the writer might be. He took up the other. It too was, as she had said, in a woman's hand.

“And how will our lady be, now that the New Year has come? I have no doubt that you yourself have a long list of blessings to count over. This is a beautiful house and we are well taken care of, and yet it seems a pity that the young lady should be shut away in the mountains. I have been telling her that she must stop brooding, that she must pick herself up and visit you from time to time; but she refuses because of that awful thing and goes on brooding. She is sending streamers to decorate the little prince's room. Please show them to him when his father is away.”

It was not a very pleasing letter. It was wordy and complaining and not at all in keeping with the happy season. Puzzled, he read it again.

“You must tell me everything. Who is it from?”

“I am told that the daughter of a woman who was in service with us at Uji has been obliged to go back there.”

But it did not seem the hand of an ordinary maidservant, and the mention of “that awful thing” was a valuable hint. The streamers were charming, obviously the work of someone with a great deal of spare time, perhaps, indeed, too much. A branch at a fork in the pine had been strung with artificial red berries, and a poem attached to it:

“Our seedling pine has not known many years.

I see for it, withal, a pine's long life.”

It was not a particularly distinguished poem. Yet he continued to read it over, sensing that it would be from a lady who had been much on his mind.

“Send off an answer. You must not be rude, and I see no need for secrecy.” He turned to go. “I have no choice but to leave you when you are in one of your moods.”

The princess summoned her women. “A great pity,” she said softly. “You had to let them fall into the hands of an infant, did you?”

“You surely don't think we wanted it that way! No, that child is cheeky and forward and not as bright as she might be. It doesn't take long to sort out the ones with possibilities. The quiet ones are the ones to watch.”

“Oh, don't be angry with her,” said Nakanokimi. “She's so young.”

The child had been put into Nakanokimi's service the winter before. She was a pretty little thing and Niou was fond of her.