17

The captain set out for the city, his flute coming in rich and full on the wind from the mountain. There was no sleep at the nunnery that night.

Early in the morning a note was delivered: “It was because of all my troubles that I took my leave so early.

“Ancient things came back, I wept aloud

At koto and flute and a lady's haughty ways.

“Do teach her a little, if you will, of the art of sympathy. If I were able to endure in silence, would I thus be serenading you?”

Sadder and sadder, thought the nun, on the edge of tears as she composed her reply:

“With the voice of your flute came thoughts of long ago,

And tears wet my sleeve, and sped you on your way.

“You will have guessed, from the remarks my mother was so generous with, that the girl is so withdrawn as to suggest insensitivity.”

It was not a letter that interested him a great deal.

As insistent as the wind through the rushes, the girl was thinking. How very insistent men were! Memories of the Uji days, and especially of Niou, were coming back. Well, she knew a way to be free of them all. She quite gave herself up to her preparations, to study and prayer and invocation of the holy name. The bishop's sister was forced to conclude that the girl had never been young, that she had somehow been withdrawn and gloomy from the start. But pretty she certainly was, so pretty that dissatisfaction with her could not last. Indeed, the nun's life had come to center upon her, and a rare little chuckle from her was a delight among delights.