No More Learning

Meantime, both Genji and To-no-Chiujio, in their secret minds, were
thinking of the notes of the _koto_ heard before on that evening, and
of the bare and pitiable condition of the residence of the Princess
whom they had left--a great contrast to the luxury of their present
quarters. To-no-Chiujio's idea about her took something of this shape:
"If girls who, from a modest propriety, keep themselves aloof for
years from our society, were at last to be subdued by our attentions,
our affection for them would become irresistible, even braving
whatever remarks popular scandal might pass upon us. She may be like
one of these. The Prince Genji seems to have made her the object of
some attentions. He is not one to waste his time without reason. He
knows what he is doing. "

As these thoughts arose in his mind, a slight feeling of jealousy
disturbed him, and made him ready to dare a little rivalry in that
quarter; for, it would appear, that after this day amatory letters
were often sent both by him and Genji to the Princess, who, however,
returned no answer to either.

This silence on her part made To-no-Chiujio, more especially, think
thus: "A strange rejection; and from one, too, who possesses such a
secluded life. True, her birth is high; but that cannot be the only
reason which makes her bury herself in retirement. There must be some
stronger reason, I presume. "

As we have before mentioned, Genji and To-no-Chiujio were so intimate
that all ceremony was dispensed with between them, and they could ask
each other any question without reserve. From this circumstance
To-no-Chiujio one day boldly inquired of Genji: "I dare say you have
received some replies from the Princess. Have you not? I for my part
have thrown out some hints in that quarter by way of experiment, but I
gave up in disappointment. "

"Ah, then, he too has been trying there," thought Genji, smiling
slightly, and he replied very vaguely, "I am not particularly
concerned whether I get an answer or not, therefore I cannot tell you
whether I have received any. "

"I understand that," thought To-no-Chiujio; "perhaps he has got one; I
suspect so. "

To state the truth, Genji was not very deeply smitten by the Princess,
and he was but little concerned at her sending no reply to his letter;
but when he heard the confession of his brother-in-law's attempts in
the same quarter, the spirit of rivalry stirred him once more. "A
girl," thought he, "will yield to him who pays her the most
attentions. I must not allow him to excel me in that. " And Genji
determined to achieve what he intended to do, and with this object
still enlisted the aid of Tayu. He told her that the Princess's
treating his letter with such indifference was an act of great
cruelty. "Perhaps she does this," said he, "because she suspects I am
changeable. I am not, however, such a one as that. It is often only
the fault of ladies themselves that causes men to appear so; besides a
lady, like the Princess, who has neither parent nor brother to
interfere with her, is a most desirable acquaintance, as we can
maintain our friendship far better than we could otherwise do. "

"Yes! what you say is all very well," replied Tayu, "but the Princess
is not exactly so placed that any one can make himself quite at ease
with her. As I told you before she is very bashful and reserved; but
yet is perhaps more desirable for this very reason," and she detailed
many more particulars about her. This enabled Genji to fully picture
the general bearing of the Princess's character; and he thought,
"Perhaps her mind is not one of brilliant activity, but she may be
modest, and of a quiet nature, worthy of attention. " And so he kept
the recollection of her alive in his mind. Before, however, he met
her, many events had taken place. He had been attacked by the ague,
which led to his journey to the mountain and his discovery of Violet,
and his secret affection for a certain one in the palace.

His mind being thus otherwise occupied, the spring and summer passed
away without anything further transpiring about the Princess. As the
autumn advanced his thoughts recurred to past times, and even the
sound of the fuller's hammer, which he had listened to in the home of
Yugao, came back to his mental ear; and these reveries again brought
him to the recollection of the Princess Hitachi, and now once more he
began to urge Tayu to contrive a meeting.

It would seem that there was no difficulty for Tayu to bring the
matter about, but at the same time no one knew better than herself
that the natural gifts and culture of the Princess were far from
coming up to Genji's standard. She thought, however, that it would
matter very little if he did not care for her, but if, on the other
hand, he did so, he was quite free to come and see her without any
interference. For this reason she at last made up her mind to bring
them together, and she gave several hints to the Princess.

Now it so happened towards the end of August that Tayu was on one
occasion engaged in conversing with the Princess. The evening was as
yet moonless, the stars alone twinkled in the heavens, and the gentle
winds blew plaintively over the tall trees around the mansion. The
conversation gradually led to times gone by, and the Princess was
rendered sad by the contrast of her present circumstances with those
of her father's time. "This is a good opportunity," thought Tayu, and
she sent, it seems, a message to Genji, who soon hastened to the
mansion with his usual alacrity. At the moment when he arrived on the
scene the long-looked-for moon had just made her appearance over the
tops of a distant mountain, and as he looked along the wildly growing
hedges around the residence, he heard the sound of the _koto_, which
was being played by the Princess at Tayu's request. It sounded a
little too old-fashioned, but that was of no consequence to the eager
ears of the Prince. He soon made his way to the entrance, and
requested a domestic to announce him to Tayu.

When the latter heard of this she affected great surprise, and said to
the Princess, "The Prince has come. How annoying! He has often been
displeased because I have not yet introduced him to you. I have often
told him that you do not particularly like it, and therefore I cannot
think what makes him come here. I had better see him and send him
away, but what shall I say. We cannot treat him like an ordinary
person. I am really puzzled what to do. Will you not let me ask you if
you will see him for a few minutes, then all matters will end
satisfactorily? "

"But I am not used to receive people," said the Princess, blushing.
"How simple minded! " rejoined Tayu, coaxingly, "I am sorry for that,
for the bashfulness of young ladies who are under the care of their
parents may sometimes be even desirable, but how then is that parallel
with your case? Besides, I do not see any good in a friendless maiden
refusing the offer of a good acquaintance. "

"Well, if you really insist upon it," said the Princess, "perhaps I
will; but don't expose me too much to the gaze of a stranger. "

Having thus cunningly persuaded the Princess, Tayu set the
reception-room in order, into which Genji was soon shown. The Princess
was all the while experiencing much nervousness, and as she did not
know exactly how to manage, she left everything to Tayu, and was led
by her to the room to receive her visitor. The room was arranged in
such a way that the Princess had her back to the light so that her
face and emotions could be obscured.

The perfume which she used was rich, still preserving the trait of
high birth, but her demeanor was timid, and her deportment awkward.

Genji at once noticed this. "Just as I imagined. She is so simple,"
thought he, and then he commenced to talk with her, and to explain how
passionately he had desired to see her. She, however, listened to him
almost in silence, and gave no plain answer. Genji was disconcerted,
and at last said,

"From you I sought so oft reply,
But you to give one would not deign,
If you discard me, speak, and I
Will cease to trouble you again. "

The governess of the Princess, Kojijiu by name, who was present, was a
sagacious woman, and noticing the embarrassment of the lady, she
advanced to her side, and made the following reply in such a
well-timed manner that her real object, which was to conceal the
deficiencies of her mistress, did not betray itself--

"Not by the ringing of a bell,
Your words we wish to stay;
But simply, she has nought to tell,
And nothing much to say. "

"Your eloquence has so struck me that my mouth is almost closed," said
Genji, smiling--

"Not speaking is a wiser part,
And words are sometimes vain,
But to completely close the heart
In silence, gives me pain. "

He then tried to speak of this thing and that indifferently, but all
hopes of agreeable responsiveness on the lady's part being vain, he
coolly took his leave, and left the mansion, much disappointed.

This evening he slept in his mansion at Nijio. The next morning
To-no-Chiujio appeared before he had risen.

"How late, how late! " he cried, in a peculiar tone. "Were you fatigued
last night, eh? "

Genji rose and presently came out, saying, "I have overslept myself,
that is all; nothing to disturb me. But have you come from the palace?
Was it your official watch-night? "[65]

"Yes," replied To-no-Chiujio, "and I must inform you that the dancers
and musicians for the _fete_ in Suzak-in are to be nominated to-day. I
came from the palace to report this to my father, so I must now go
home, but I will soon return to you. "

"I will go with you," said Genji, "but let us breakfast before we
start. "

Breakfast was accordingly brought, of which they partook. Two
carriages, Genji's and To-no-Chiujio's, were driven to the door, but
To-no-Chiujio invited the Prince to take a seat with him. Genji
complied, and they drove off. Going along To-no-Chiujio observed with
an envious tone in his voice, "You look very sleepy;" to which Genji
returned an indifferent reply. From the house of Sadaijin they
proceeded to the Imperial Palace to attend the selection of the
dancers and musicians. Thence Genji drove with his father-in-law to
the mansion of the latter.

Here in the excitement of the coming _fete_ were assembled several
young nobles, in addition to Genji himself. Some practised dancing,
others music, the sound of which echoed everywhere around. A large
_hichiriki_ and a _shakuhachi_ (two kinds of flute) were blown with
the utmost vigor. Even large drums were rolled upon a balcony and
beaten with a will.

During the following days, therefore, Genji was so busily engaged that
no thought came across his mind of revisiting the Princess Hitachi.
Tayu certainly came now and then, and strove to induce him to pay the
Princess another visit, but he made an excuse on the pretext of being
so much occupied.

It was not until the _fete_ was over that one evening he resolved to
pay a visit there. He did not, however, announce his intention openly,
but went there in strict secrecy, making his way to the house
unobserved, as there was no one about.

On his arrival he went up to the latticed window and peeped through.
The curtains were old and half worn out, yet were still left to hang
in the once pretty and decorated chamber. There were a few domestic
maidens there partaking of supper. The table and service seemed to be
old Chinese, but everything else betrayed a scantiness of furniture.

In the further room where the mistress was probably dining, an old
waitress was passing in and out, wearing a peculiar white dress rather
faded in appearance, and an awkward-looking comb in her hair, after
the old-fashioned style of those formerly in the service of the
aristocratic class, of whom a few might still be retained in a family.

"Ah," thought Genji, smiling, "we might see this kind of thing in the
college of ceremonies. " One of the maids happened to say, "This poor
cold place! when one's life is too long, such fate comes to us. "
Another answered her, "How was it we did not like the mansion when the
late Prince was living? "

Thus they talked about one thing or another connected with their
mistress's want of means.

Genji did not like that they should know that he had seen and heard
all this, so he slyly withdrew some distance, and then advancing with
a firm step, approached the door and knocked.

"Some one is come," cried a servant, who then brought a light, opened
the door, and showed him into a room where he was soon joined by the
Princess, neither Tayu nor Kojijiu being there on this occasion. The
latter was acquainted with the Saiin (the sacred virgin at the Temple
of Kamo),[66] and often spent some time with her. On this occasion she
happened to be visiting her, a circumstance which was not very
convenient for the Princess. The dilapidated state of the mansion was
just as novel to Genji as that which he had seen in the lodge of
Yugao, but the great drawback consisted in the Princess's want of
responsiveness. He spoke much, she but little. Outside, in the
meantime, the weather had become boisterous and snow fell thickly,
while within in the room where they sat the lamp burned dimly, no one
waiting there even to trim the light.

Some hours were spent between them, and then Genji rose, and throwing
up the shutter in the same way as he did in the lodge of Yugao, looked
upon the snow which had fallen in the garden. The ground was covered
with a sheet of pure whiteness; no footstep had left its trace,
betraying the fact that few persons came to the mansion. He was about
to take his departure, but some vague impulse arrested him. Turning to
the Princess, he asked her to come near him, and to look out on the
scene, and she somewhat unreadily complied.

The evening was far advanced, but the reflection of the snow threw a
faint light over all. Now, for the first time, he discovered the
imperfections of the personal attractions of the Princess. First, her
stature was very tall, the upper part of her figure being out of
proportion to the lower, then one thing which startled him most was
her nose. It reminded him of the elephant of Fugen. It was high and
long; while its peak, a little drooping, was tinged with pink. To the
refined eyes of Genji this was a sad defect. Moreover, she was thin,
too thin; and her shoulders drooped too much, as if the dress was too
heavy for them.

"Why am I so anxious to examine and criticise? " thought Genji, but his
curiosity impelled him to continue his examination. Her hair and the
shape of her head were good, in no way inferior to those of others he
liked so well. Her complexion was fair, and her forehead well
developed. The train of her dress, which hung down gracefully, seemed
about a foot too long. If I described everything which she wore I
should become loquacious, but in old stories the dress of the
personages is very often more minutely described than anything else;
so I must, I suppose, do the same. Her vest and skirt dress were
double, and were of light green silk, a little worn, over which was a
robe of dark color. Over all this she wore a mantle of sable of good
quality, only a little too antique in fashion. To all these things,
therefore, he felt no strong objection; but the two things he could
not pass unnoticed were her nose, and her style of movement. She moved
in a stiff and constrained manner, like a master of the ceremonies in
some Court procession, spreading out his arms and looking important.
This afforded him amusement, but still he felt for her. "If I say too
much, pardon me," said Genji, "but you seem apparently friendless. I
should advise you to take interest in one with whom you have made
acquaintance. He will sympathize with you. You are much too reserved.
Why are you so?

The icicle hangs at the gable end,
But melts when the sun is high,
Why does your heart not to me unbend,
And warm to my melting sigh. "

A smile passed over the lips of the Princess, but they seemed too
stiff to reply in a similar strain. She said nothing.

The time had now come for Genji to depart. His carriage was drawn up
to the middle gate, which, like everything else that belonged to the
mansion, was in a state of dilapidation. "The spot overgrown with wild
vegetation, spoken of by Sama-no-Kami might be such as this," he
thought. "If one can find a real beauty of elevated character and
obtain her, how delightful would it not be! The spot answers the
description, but the girl does not quite equal the idea; however, I
really pity her, and will look after her. She is a fortunate girl, for
if I were not such a one as I am, I should have little sympathy for
the unfortunate and unfavored. But this is not what I shall do. "

He saw an orange tree in the garden covered with snow. He bade his
servant shake it free. A pine tree which stood close by suddenly
jerked its branches as if in emulation of its neighbor, and threw off
its load of snow like a wave. The gate through which he had to drive
out was not yet opened. The gatekeeper was summoned to open it.
Thereupon an aged man came forth from his lodge. A miserable-looking
girl with a pinched countenance stood by, his daughter or his
granddaughter, whose dress looked poorer from the whiteness of the
surrounding snow. She had something containing lighted charcoal which
she held to her breast for warmth.

When she observed that her aged parent could scarcely push back the
gate, she came forward and helped him. And the scene was quite droll.
Genji's servant also approached them, and the gates were thrown open.

Again Genji hummed:--

"The one who on the time-bent head of age,
Beholds the gathered snow,
Nor less his tears of grief may shed,
For griefs that youth can only know. "

and added, "Youth with its body uncovered. "[67] Then the pitiable
image of one with a tinged flower[68] on her face presented itself
once more to his thoughts and made him smile.

"If To-no-Chiujio observed this, what would he not have to say? "
thought he, as he drove back slowly to his mansion.

After this time communications were frequently sent from Genji to the
Princess. This he did because he pitied the helpless condition and
circumstances he had witnessed more than for any other reason. He also
sent her rolls of silk, which might replace the old-fashioned
sable-skins, some damask, calico and the like. Indeed, presents were
made even to her aged servants and to the gatekeeper.

In ordinary circumstances with women, particular attention such as
this might make a blush, but the Princess did not take it in such a
serious light, nor did Genji do this from any other motive than
kindness.

The year approached its end! He was in his apartment in the Imperial
Palace, when one morning Tayu came in. She was very useful to him in
small services, such as hairdressing, so she had easy access to him,
and thus she came to him this morning.

"I have something strange to tell you, but it is somewhat trying for
me to do so," she said, half smiling.

"What can it be? There can be nothing to conceal from me! "

"But I have some reason for my hesitation to reveal it," replied Tayu.

"You make a difficulty, as usual," rejoined Genji.

"This is from the Princess," she said, taking a letter from her pocket
and presenting it.

"Is this a thing of all others that you ought to conceal," cried
Genji, taking the letter and opening it. It was written on thick and
coarse paper of Michinok manufacture. The verse it contained ran as
follows:--

"Like this, my sleeves are worn away,
By weeping at your long delay. "

These words puzzled Genji. Inclining his head in a contemplative way,
he glanced from the paper to Tayu, and from Tayu to the paper. Then
she drew forth a substantial case of antique pattern, saying, "I
cannot produce such a thing without shame, but the Princess expressly
sent this for your New Year. I could not return it to her nor keep it
myself; I hope you will just look at it. "

"Oh, certainly," replied Genji. "It is very kind of her," at the same
time thinking, "What a pitiful verse! This may really be her own
composition. No doubt Kojijiu has been absent, besides she seems to
have had no master to improve her penmanship. This must have been
written with great effort. We ought to be grateful for it, as they
say. " Here a smile rose on Genji's cheeks, and a blush upon Tayu's.
The case was opened, and a Naoshi (a kind of gown), of scarlet, shabby
and old-fashioned, of the same color on both sides, was found inside.
The sight was almost too much for Genji from its very absurdity. He
stretched out the paper on which the verse had been written, and began
to write on one side, as if he was merely playing with the pen. Tayu,
glancing slyly, found that he had written:--

This color pleases not mine eye,
Too fiery bright its gaudy hue,
And when the saffron flower was nigh,
The same pink tinge was plain to view.

He then erased what he had written, but Tayu quickly understood what
he really meant by "saffron flower," referring to the pinkness of its
flower, so she remarked:--

"Although the dress too bright in hue,
And scarlet tints may please you not,
At least to her, who sends, be true,
Soon will Naoshi be forgot. "

While they were thus prattling on the matter, people were entering the
room to see him, so Genji hastily put the things aside, and Tayu
retired.

A few days after, Genji one morning looked into the Daihan-sho (large
parlor), where he found Tayu, and threw a letter to her, saying,
"Tayu, here is the answer. It has cost me some pains," and then passed
through, humming as he went, with a peculiar smile,

"Like that scarlet-tinged plum. "

None but Tayu understood the real allusion.
One of the women observed,
"The weather is too frosty, perhaps he has seen some one reddened by
the frost. " Another said, "What an absurdity! There is no one among us
of that hue, but perhaps Sakon or Uneme may be like this," and thus
they chattered on till the matter dropped.

The letter was soon sent by Tayu to the Princess, who assembled all
her attendants round her, and they all read it together, when the
following was found in it:--

Of my rare visits you complain,
But can the meaning be,
Pray come not often, nor again,
For I am tired of thee.

On the last day of the year he made the following presents to the
Princess, sending them in the same case as the Naoshi had been sent to
him: stuff for a complete dress, which had originally been presented
to himself; also rolls of silk, one of the color of the purple grape,
another of the Kerria japonica color, and others. All these were
handed to the Princess by Tayu. It should be observed that these
presents were made by Genji to the Princess chiefly on account of her
reduced circumstances. Her attendants, however, who wished to flatter
their mistress, exclaimed, "Our scarlet dress was very good, too.
Scarlet is a color which never fades. The lines we sent were also
excellent. Those of the Prince are, no doubt, a little amusing, but
nothing more. "

The Princess, flattered by the remarks, wrote down her verse in her
album, as if worthy of preservation.

The New Year began with the morrow; and it was announced that the
Otoko-doka (gentlemen's singing dances) would soon take place in which
Genji would take part. Hence he was busy in going backwards and
forwards, to practise, but the lonely residence of the saffron flower
began to draw his thoughts in that direction. So after the ceremony of
the State Festival, on the seventh day, he betook himself there in the
evening, after he had left the Emperor's presence, having made a
pretence of retiring to his own private apartments. On this occasion
the appearance of the lady happened to be a little more attractive,
and Genji was pleased, thinking there might be a time when she would
improve still more. When the sun shone forth he rose to leave. He
opened the casement on the western side of the mansion, and, looking
at the corridor, perceived that its roof was broken. Through it the
sunshine peeped, and shone upon the slight cover of snow scattered in
the crevices. The scene, as we have before said, betrayed everywhere
dilapidation and decay.

The mirror-stand, combs, and dressing-case were brought in by an
attendant. They were all of an extremely antique pattern. He drew an
"arm-stool" near him, and resting himself upon it began combing his
hair. He was amused at the sight of these articles, which were
doubtless a legacy from her parents. The dress of the Princess was in
every way nicer. It had been made out of the silk of Genji's present.
He recognized it by the tasteful pattern. Turning to her he said,
"This year you might become a little more genial, the only thing I
wait for above all is a change in your demeanor. " To which she, with
some awkwardness, said,

"In the spring, when numerous birds sing. "

Such poetic responses were a great delight to Genji, who thought they
were the silent touches of time, and that she had made some
improvement. He then left and returned to his mansion in Nijio, where
he saw the young Violet innocently amusing herself. She wore with
grace a long close-fitting cherry-colored dress of plain silk. She had
not yet blackened her teeth,[69] but he now made her do so, which gave
a pleasant contrast to her eyebrows. He played at their usual games at
toys with her, trying in every way to please her. She drew pictures
and painted them, so did he also. He drew the likeness of a lady with
long hair, and painted her nose with pink. Even in caricature it was
odd to see. He turned his head to a mirror in which he saw his own
image reflected in great serenity. He then took the brush and painted
his own nose pink. Violet, on seeing this, screamed.

"When I become ornamented in this way what shall I be like? " inquired
Genji.

"That would be a great pity. Do wipe it off, it might stain," she
replied.

Genji partly wiped it off, saying, "Need I wipe it off any more?
Suppose I go with this to the Palace? "

On this Violet approached and carefully wiped it for him. "Don't put
any more color," cried Genji, "and play upon me as Heijiu. "[70]

The mild sun of spring descended in the west, and darkness slowly
gathered over the forest tops, obscuring all but the lovely white plum
blossoms which were still visible amidst the gloom. At the front of
the porch, also, a red plum blossom, which usually opens very early,
was deeply tinged with glowing hues. Genji murmured:--

"The 'red-tinged flower' is far from fair,
Nor do my eyes delight to see,
But yon red plum which blossoms there,
Is full of loveliness to me. "

What will become of all these personages!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 65: Young nobles spent a night in the palace in turns, to
attend to any unexpected official business. ]

[Footnote 66: When a new emperor succeeded, two virgins, chosen from
the royal princesses, were sent--one to the Shinto temple at Ise, the
other to the same temple at Kamo--to become vestals, and superintend
the services. ]

[Footnote 67: From a Chinese poem about poor people "night advancing,
snow and hail fly white around. Youth with its body uncovered, and the
aged with chilly pain, grief and cold come together, and make them
both sob. "]

[Footnote 68: A play upon the word "hana," which means a nose, as well
as a flower. ]

[Footnote 69: An old custom in Japan for girls when married, or even
betrothed, is to blacken their teeth. This custom, however, is rapidly
disappearing. ]

[Footnote 70: In an old tale it is stated that this man had a
sweetheart. He often pretended to be weeping, and made his eyes moist
by using the water which he kept in his bottle for mixing ink, in
order to deceive her. She discovered this ruse; so one day she put ink
into it secretly. He damped his eyes as usual, when, giving him a hand
mirror, she hummed, "You may show me your tears, but don't show your
blackened face to strangers. "]




CHAPTER VII

MAPLE FETE


The Royal visit to the Suzak-in was arranged to take place towards the
middle of October, and was anticipated to be a grand affair. Ladies
were not expected to take part in it, and they all regretted their not
being able to be present.

The Emperor, therefore, wished to let his favorite, the Princess
Wistaria, above others, have an opportunity of witnessing a rehearsal
that would represent the coming _fete_, and ordered a preliminary
concert to be performed at the Court, in which Genji danced the "Blue
Main Waves," with To-no-Chiujio for his partner. They stood and danced
together, forming a most pleasing contrast--one, so to speak, like a
bright flower; the other, an everlasting verdure beside it. The rays
of the setting sun shone over their heads, and the tones of the music
rose higher and higher in measure to their steps. The movements both
of hand and foot were eminently graceful; as well, also, was the song
of Genji, which was sung at the end of his dance, so that some of the
people remarked that the sound of the holy bird, Kariobinga,[71] might
be even like this. And so the rehearsal ended.

When the day of the _fete_ came, all the Royal Princes, including the
Heir-apparent, and all personages of State, were present at the scene.
On the lake, "the music boat," filled with selected musicians, floated
about, as usual on such occasions; and in the grounds, the bands,
which were divided into two divisions on the right and left, under the
direction of two Ministers and two Yemon-no-Kami, played. With this
music different dances, including Chinese and Corean, were performed,
one after another, by various dancers. As the performance went on, the
high winds rustled against the tall fir-trees, as though Divine
strains of music had broken forth on high in harmony with them. The
tune of the bands became quick and thrilling, as different colored
leaves whirled about overhead.

Then, at length, the hero of the "Blue Main Waves" made his
appearance, to the delight of the suddenly startled spectators, from
the midst of a knoll in the grounds, covered with maple leaves. The
twigs of maple which crowned his head, became thinned as he danced,
and a Sadaishio, plucking a bunch of chrysanthemums from in front of
the Royal stand, replaced the lessened maple leaves. The sun was by
this time descending, and the sky had become less glaring, while the
face of Nature seemed as if it were smiling on the scene. Genji danced
with unusual skill and energy. All the pages and attendants, who were
severally stationed here under the side of the rock, there under the
shade of the foliage, were quite impressed with the effects of the
performance.

After Genji, a little prince, the child of the Niogo of Jiokio-den,
danced the "Autumn Gales," with a success next to that of Genji. Then,
the principal interest of the day being over, as these dances were
finished, the _fete_ ended. This very evening Genji was invested with
the title of Shosammi, and To-no-Chiujio with that of Shoshii. Many
other persons also received promotion in rank according to their
merits.

It was after this _fete_ that the young Violet was taken into the
mansion of Genji at Nijio, and she lived with him. The more care he
took of her the more amiable she became, while nothing pleased him
more than teaching her to read and write.

The full extent of her mourning for her grandmother was three months,
as it is for the maternal side; and on the last day of December her
dress was changed. As she, however, had been always brought up under
the care of her grandmother, her indebtedness to the latter was not to
be held lightly; consequently any bright colors were not advisable for
her, so she wore plain scarlet, mauve, and light yellow, without
trimmings or ornament on them.

The dawn ushered in the New Year's day. Genji was about to leave his
mansion to attend the New Year's _levee_. Just before starting, he
came into Violet's room to see her.

"How are you? Are you becoming less childish now? " said he, with a
smile to the girl who was playing with her Hina (toys).

"I am trying to mend this. Inuki damaged it when he was playing what
he called 'driving out devils,'"[72] replied the girl.

"What carelessness! I will soon get it mended for you. Don't cry this
day, please," said Genji, and he went off, the maidens who attended on
Violet accompanying him to the door. This example was also followed by
Violet herself.

She went back again to her toys, and presented a toy prince, whom she
called Genji, at the Court of her toy house. Shionagon was beside her.
She said:--

"You might really be a little more womanly, as the Prince told you.
How very childish! a girl older than ten always playing with toys! "

Violet said nothing; but she seemed, for the first time, to have
become aware that she was expected to be a woman in the course of
time.

From the Court, Genji went to the mansion of Sadaijin. Lady Aoi was as
cool to him as ever. His persuasive eloquence availed him but little.
She was older than Genji by four years, and was as cold and stately in
her mien as ever. Her father, however, received him joyfully whenever
he called, although he was not always satisfied with the
capriciousness of his son-in-law.

The next morning Genji rose early, and was arranging his toilet, with
a view of making his New Year's visits, when Sadaijin entered the
room, and officiously assisted him in putting on his dress, except,
perhaps, his boots. He, moreover, had brought him a belt mounted with
rare jewels, and requested him to wear it.

Genji observed: "Such a belt is more suited for some special
occasion--such as a Royal banquet, or the like. " But Sadaijin insisted
on his putting it on, telling him that for that sort of occasion he
possessed a much more valuable one.

These New Year's visits were only paid to the Emperor, to the
Heir-apparent, and to the Princess Wistaria at her private residence
in Sanjio, where she had retired, but she did not receive him
personally. At this time, the Princess was not in her usual state of
health, for she was approaching her confinement. Many people, who
thought that they might have heard of the event in December, now began
to say, "At least we shall receive the intelligence this month," and
the Emperor himself became impatient; but the month passed away, and
yet it did not happen. In the middle of February, however, she was
safely delivered of a Prince. During the following April the child was
presented to the Emperor. [73] He was rather big for his age, and had
already begun to notice those around him.

In these days much of Genji's time was passed at Nijio with Violet,
and Lady Aoi was still greatly neglected. The circumstances which
induced him to stay at home more than ever were these: He would order
his carriage to be brought in readiness to take him; but, before it
was ready, he would proceed to the western wing, where Violet lived.
Perhaps, with eyes drowsy after dozing, and playing on a flute as he
went, he would find her moping on one side of the room, like a fair
flower moistened with dews. He would then approach her side, and say,
"How are you? Are you not well? " She, without being startled, would
slowly open her eyes, and murmur: "Sad like the weed in a creek," and
then put her hand on her mouth deprecatingly. On this he would remark,
"How knowing you are! Where did you learn such things? " He would then
call for a _koto_, and saying "The worst of the _soh-koto_ is that its
middle chord should break so easily," would arrange it for a Hiojio
tune, and when he had struck a few chords on it, would offer it to
her, asking her to play, and would presently accompany her with his
flute. They would then play some difficult air, perhaps Hosoroguseri,
a very ugly name, but a very lively tune, and she would keep very good
time, and display her skill. The lamp would be presently brought in,
and they would look over some pictures together. In due time, the
carriage would be announced. Perhaps it might be added, "It is coming
on to rain. " Upon hearing this, she would, perhaps, put her pictures
aside, and become downcast. He would then smooth her wavy hair, and
say, "Are you sorry when I am not here? " To this question she would
indicate her feelings by slightly nodding an affirmative, and she
would lean on his knee and begin to doze.

He would then say, "I shall not go out to-night. " The servant having
brought in supper, would tell her that Genji was not going out that
evening. Then she would manifest the greatest delight, and would
partake of the supper. And thus it came to pass that he often
disappointed one who was expecting him.

The way that Genji neglected his bride gradually became known to the
public--nay, to the Emperor himself, who sometimes admonished him,
telling him that his father-in-law always took great interest in him
and great care from his earliest childhood, and saying that he hoped
that he would surely not forget all these benefits, and that it was
strange to be unkind to his daughter. But when these remarks were made
to Genji, he answered nothing.

Let us now change our subject. The Emperor, though he had already
passed the meridian of life, was still fond of the society of the fair
sex. And his Court was full of ladies who were well versed in the ways
of the world. Some of these would occasionally amuse themselves by
paying attentions to Genji. We will here relate the following amusing
incident:--

There was at the Court a Naishi-no-Ske, who was already no longer
young, and commonly called Gen-Naishi-no-Ske. Both her family and
character were good. She was, however, in spite of her age, still
coquettish, which was her only fault. Genji often felt amused at her
being so young in temperament, and he enjoyed occasionally talking
nonsense with her. She used to attend on the Emperor while his hair
was being dressed. One day, after he had retired into his
dressing-room, she remained in the other room, and was smoothing her
own hair. Genji happened to pass by. He stole unperceived into the
room, and slyly tugged the skirt of her robe. She started, and
instinctively half concealed her face with an old-fashioned fan, and
looked back at Genji with an arch glance in her sunken eyes. "What an
unsuitable fan for you! " exclaimed Genji, and took it from her hand.
It was made of reddish paper, apparently long in use, and upon it an
ancient forest had been thickly painted. In a corner was written, in
antique style, the following words:--

"On grasses old, 'neath forest trees,
No steed will browse or swain delay,
However real that grass may be,
'Tis neither good for food nor play. "

Genji was highly amused. "There are many things one might write on
fans," thought he; "what made her think of writing such odd lines as
these? "

"Ah! " said Genji, "I see, 'its summer shade is still thick
though! '"[74]

While he was joking he felt something like nervousness in thinking
what people might say if anyone happened to see him flirting with such
an elderly lady. She, on her side, had no such fear. She replied--

"If beneath that forest tree,
The steed should come or swain should be,
Where that ancient forest grows,
Is grass for food, and sweet repose. "

"What? " retorted Genji,

"If my steed should venture near,
Perhaps he'd find a rival there,
Some one's steed full well, I ween,
Rejoices in these pastures green. "

And quitted the room.

The Emperor, who had been peeping unobserved into it, after he had
finished his toilet, laughed heartily to himself at the scene.

To-no-Chiujio was somehow informed of Genji's fun with this lady, and
became anxious to discover how far he meant to carry on the joke. He
therefore sought her acquaintance. Genji knew nothing of this. It
happened on a cool summer evening that Genji was sauntering round the
Ummeiden in the palace yard. He heard the sound of a _biwa_ (mandolin)
proceeding from a veranda. It was played by this lady. She performed
well upon it, for she was often accustomed to play it before the
Emperor along with male musicians. It sounded very charming. She was
also singing to it the "Melon grower. "

"Ah! " thought Genji, "the singing woman in Gakshoo, whom the poet
spoke of, may have been like this one," and he stood still and
listened. Slowly he approached near the veranda, humming slowly, as
he went, "Adzmaya," which she soon noticed, and took up the song, "Do
open and come in! but

I do not believe you're in the rain,
Nor that you really wish to come in. "

Genji at once responded,

"Whose love you may be I know not,
But I'll not stand outside your cot,"

and was going away, when he suddenly thought, "This is too abrupt! "
and coming back, he entered the apartment.

How great was the joy of To-no-Chiujio, who had followed Genji
unperceived by him, when he saw this. He contrived a plan to frighten
him, so he reconnoitred in order to find some favorable opportunity.

The evening breeze blew chill, and Genji it appears was becoming very
indifferent. Choosing this moment To-no-Chiujio slyly stepped forth to
the spot where Genji was resting.

Genji soon noticed his footsteps, but he never imagined that it was
his brother-in-law. He thought it was Suri-no-Kami, a great friend of
the lady. He did not wish to be seen by this man. He reproached her
for knowing that he was expected, but that she did not give him any
hint. Carrying his Naoshi on his arm, he hid himself behind a folding
screen. To-no-Chiujio, suppressing a laugh, advanced to the side of
the screen, and began to fold it from one end to the other, making a
crashing noise as he did so. The lady was in a dilemma, and stood
aloof. Genji would fain have run out, and concealed himself elsewhere,
but he could not get on his Naoshi, and his head-dress was all awry.
The Chiujio spoke not a word lest he should betray himself, but making
a pretended angry expostulation, he drew his sword. All at once the
lady threw herself at his feet, crying, "My lord! my lord!