27

A grandson of the old nun who had recently returned from his duties as governor of Kii came to pay his respects. He was a handsome man, perhaps thirty, and he seemed very sure of himself.

“And how have you been?” he asked the old lady. “I have not seen you in two whole years, you will remember.”

But she did not seem to understand.

He went to his aunt's rooms. “She has aged terribly, poor thing. She has been on my mind a great deal, even though I have been too far away to call on her. I have known of course that she has not many more years to live. Yes, she has been like a mother to me since my own mother died. Does Hitachi ever come to see you?”

It would seem that he was referring to his sister.

“Not a great deal breaks in on our loneliness and boredom. It has been a very long time since we last heard from Hitachi. Indeed I sometimes wonder if Mother will see her again.”

Though not especially interested in the conversation, the girl caught the name Hitachi.#

The governor went on: “I have been back in the city for several days now, but one quickly gets caught up in court business. I meant to come yesterday and then at the last minute I found that I had to go off to Uji with Lord Kaoru. We spent the day at the Eighth Prince's villa. One of the prince's daughters, with whom, I believe, His Lordship was keeping company, died some years ago, and then a younger daughter—I am told that he took her there in secret—died last spring. It was the anniversary of her death, and he had asked the archdeacon there to see to memorial services. I suppose I'll have to contribute something myself, a lady's robe or two would be the thing. I wonder—might I ask you to have them made up if I give orders to the weavers as soon as I get back to town?”

Here was a story that did interest the girl. She turned away from the doors lest her agitation be noticed.

“I have heard, I believe, that the saintly prince had _two_ daughters. One of them is married to Prince Niou. Now which would it be? I wonder.”

“The second of Lord Kaoru's ladies would seem to have been the daughter of a concubine of not very high rank. He was not as good to her as he might have been, and so now of course he is all the sorrier. They say he was terribly upset when the first princess died. He even thought of becoming a monk.”

The girl was in tenor. The man seemed to be among Kaoru's intimates.

“It seems strange,” the governor continued, “that they should both have died at Uji. He was in very low spirits yesterday, very low indeed. There were tears in his eyes when he went down to the river. He came back to the house and wrote a poem on one of the pillars:

' “I cannot halt the tears that join the flow

Of waters that gave her image, and do so no more.,

“He said very little, but you could see that he was in very low spirits. I should imagine that the two ladies adored him. I have known him for a very long time myself and have been aware all along of his extraordinary kindness and sensitivity. Yes, if I can count on his support, then I have no wish to be on the chancellor's own personal staff.”

It did not take a very discerning person, thought the girl, to observe Kaoru's superiority.

“Although I should suppose,” said the nun, “that no one we have with us these days compares with the gentleman they used to call'the shining Genji' or something of the sort. I hear that his house collects more honor for itself as the years go by. What sort of man might his older son be?”

“Very handsome, very cultivated, respected by everyone. Certainly one of the most powerful men in the country. But the _really_ handsome one is Prince Niou. Sometimes I almost wish I were a woman, and could have my turn at waiting on him.”