8

Ukifune's mother had not been allowed to go home. The governor made a serious issue of the defilement, the younger daughter still not having had her child. The mother spent comfortless days in unfriendly wayside lodgings. The other girl was a worry of sorts; but presently the child was delivered. Still kept at a distance, the governor's wife had no further room in her thoughts for her surviving daughters.

A courteous and friendly note came from Kaoru. It aroused her from the lethargy and brought new twinges of sorrow.

“My first thought was to send condolences in this horrible affair; but I have been very upset, and my eyes have been dark with tears. How much more impenetrable the darkness must be for you. After that first thought it came to me that I should allow you time to recover somewhat, and so the days have slipped aimlessly by. How is one to describe the evanescence of it all? If I should survive this most difficult of times, and I sometimes think I shall not, please look upon me as a memento of sorts, and come to me when you think I might be of assistance.”

Nakanobu, his emissary, had another message, which had not been committed to writing. “I had thought that there was no hurry, and so the months went by. You may have had doubts about my intentions. I hereby make solemn vow that in everything I am at your service. Always remember, if you will, that I have said so. I have heard that you have several other youngsters, and I shall consider it my duty to watch over them when the time comes for them to seek positions.”

The governor's wife insisted that Nakanobu come inside. It had not been the sort of pollution, she said, that was likely to rub off on others. She wept as she composed her answer.

“I wanted nothing more than to die, and perhaps I have lived on that I might have these kind words from you. I blamed her loneliness over the years upon my own insignificance. Then came the great honor of your acquaintance and your undertakings, and I looked forward to seeing her finally in honorable circumstances. And nothing came of my hopes. Yes, Uji is a gloomy village, and our bonds with it were as gloomy. If a few more years are granted me, I shall remember your good offer of support. I am blind with tears at the moment, and can say no more.”

It was hardly a time for gifts. Yet she was uncomfortable at sending Nakanobu away empty-handed. She took out a sword and a belt, both beautifully wrought, the latter inlaid with mottled sections of rhinoceros horn. She had meant them to go one day to Kaoru. She ordered that they be put in a pouch, which she sent out to Nakanobu as he was getting into his carriage.

“In memory of my daughter.”

Kaoru too thought it an odd time to be giving gifts.

“She made me come in,” said Nakanobu, “and between her sobs she told me among other things how grateful she was for what you had said about the other children. She was so unimportant herself, she said, that she could not do very much, but she would ask you to find something for them when the time came. Though of course they were such poor things, she said, that she couldn't expect too much. And she said she wouldn't breathe a word about your reasons for being interested in them.”

It was true, thought Kaoru, that the bond between them was not cause for pride; but had not emperors, even, taken women of low status? Such matches seemed dictated by fate and no one called them in question. Among commoners the precedents were legion for taking lowborn women and women who had been married before. Let people say that he had become son-in-law to His Eminence of Hitachi—well, never from the outset had his intentions for the girl been such as to demean him. The governor's wife had lost one child, and he only meant to let her know that the loss would bring profit to the others.

The governor came briefly to see his wife. He was very angry. Why had she left home at such a time? She had not informed him of Ukifune's whereabouts, and he had assumed that the girl had fallen upon hard times, and asked no questions. The mother had been saving her news for the girl's removal to the city, but there was no longer any point in secrecy. Weeping, she told him everything. She showed him Kaoru's letter. In growing wonderment, he read and reread it, for he was well provided with a certain rustic snobbishness.

“So she died on us just when she was having all this good luck? I was with his family for a while, but he was way up there on top, and I didn't really know him. So he's thinking of the others, is he?”

The mother lay sobbing. Such cause for joy, and Ukifune was not here to partake of it.

The governor managed a tear or two of his own. He thought it un-likely, however, that Kaoru would have paid much attention to them if the girl had lived. He had been wrong and he wanted to make amends, that was all, and, within these limits, he was prepared to put up with a little gossip.