gate and Genji dismounted.
So young a boy attracted little attention and indeed little deference from the guards. He left Genji at an east door to the main hall. He pounded on the south shutters and went inside.
“Shut it, shut it!” shrieked the women. “The whole world can see us.”
“But why do you have them closed on such a warm evening?”
“The lady from the west wing has been here since noon. They have been at Go.”
Hoping to see them at the Go board, Genji slipped from his hiding place and made his way through the door and the blinds. The shutter through which the boy had gone was still raised. Genji could see through to the west. One panel of a screen just inside had been folded back, and the curtains, which should have shielded off the space beyond, had been thrown over their frames, perhaps because of the heat. The view was unobstructed.
There was a lamp near the women. The one in silhouette with her back against a pillar — would she be the one on whom his heart was set? He looked first at her. She seemed to have on a purple singlet with a woven pattern, and over it a cloak of which the color and material were not easy to determine. She was a small, rather ordinary lady with delicate features. She evidently wanted to conceal her face even from the girl opposite, and she kept her thin little hands tucked in her sleeves. Her opponent was facing east, and Genji had a full view of her face. Over a singlet of white gossamer she had thrown a purplish cloak, and both garments were somewhat carelessly open all the way to the band of the red trousers. She was very handsome, tall and plump and of a fair complexion, and the lines of her head and forehead were strong and pleasing. It was a sunny face, with a beguiling cheerfulness about the eyes and mouth. Though not particularly long, the hair was rich and thick, and very beautiful where it fell about the shoulders. He could detect no marked flaws, and saw why her father, the governor of Iyo, so cherished her. It might help, to be sure, if she were just a little quieter. Yet she did not seem to be merely silly. She brimmed with good spirits as she placed a stone upon a dead spot to signal the end of the game.
“Just a minute, if you please,” said the other very calmly. “It is not quite over. You will see that we have a kō to get out of the way first.”
“I’ve lost, I’ve lost. Let’s just see what I have in the corners.” She counted up on her fingers. “Ten, twenty, thirty, forty.” She would have had no trouble, he thought, taking the full count of the baths of Iyo — though her manner might have been just a touch inelegant.
The other woman, a model of demureness, kept her face hidden. Gazing at her, Genji was able to make out the details of the profile. The eyelids seemed a trifle swollen, the lines of the nose were somewhat erratic, and there was a weariness, a want of luster, about the face. It was, one had to admit, a little on the plain side. Yet she clearly paid attention to her appearance, and there were details likely to draw the eye to a subtler sensibility than was evident in her lively companion. The latter, very engaging indeed, laughed ever more happily. There was no denying the bright gaiety, and in her way she was interesting enough. A shallow, superficial thing, no doubt, but to his less than pure heart she seemed a prize not to be flung away. All the ladies he knew were so prim and proper. This was the first time he had seen one so completely at her ease. He felt a little guilty, but not so guilty that he would have turned away had he not heard the boy coming back. He slipped outside.
Apologetic that his master should still be at the beginning, the boy said that the unexpected guest had interfered with his plans.
“You mean to send me off frustrated once more? It is really too much.”
“No, sir. But I must ask you to wait until the other lady has gone. I’ll arrange everything then, I promise you.”
Things seemed to be arranging themselves. The boy was very young, but he was calmly self-possessed and had a good eye for the significant things.
The game of Go was apparently over. There was a stir inside, and a sound as of withdrawing.
“Where will that boy have gone?” Now there was a banging of shutters. “Let’s get the place closed up.”
“No one seems to be stirring,” said Genji after a time. “Go and do your best.”
The boy knew well enough that it was not his sister’s nature to encourage frivolity. He must admit Genji when there was almost no one with her.
“Is the guest still here?” asked Genji. “I would like a glimpse of her.”
“Quite impossible. There are curtains inside the shutters.”
Genji was amused, but thought it would be bad manners to let the boy know that he had already seen the lady. “How slowly time does go by.”
This time the boy knocked on the corner door and was admitted.
“I’ll just make myself comfortable here,” he said, spreading bed-clothes where one or two of the sliding doors had been left open. “Come in, breezes.”
Numbers of older women seemed to be sleeping out near the veranda. The girl who had opened the door seemed to have joined them. The boy feigned sleep for a time. Then, spreading a screen to block the light, he motioned Genji inside.
Genji was suddenly shy, fearing he would be defeated once more. He followed the boy all the same. Raising a curtain, he slipped into the main room. It was very quiet, and his robes rustled alarmingly.
With one part of her mind the woman was pleased that he had not given up. But the nightmare of the earlier evening had not left her. Brooding days, sleepless nights — it was summer, and yet it was “budless spring.”
Her companion at Go, meanwhile, was as cheerful as could be. “I shall stay with you tonight,” she announced. It was not likely that she would have trouble sleeping.
The lady herself sensed that something was amiss. Detecting an unusual perfume, she raised her head. It was dark where the curtain had been thrown over the frame, but she could see a form creeping toward her. In a panic, she got up. Pulling a singlet of raw silk over her shoulders, she slipped from the room.
Genji was delighted to see that there was only one lady asleep behind the curtains. There seemed to be two people asleep out toward the veranda. As he pulled aside the bedclothes it seemed to him that the lady was somewhat larger than he would have expected. He became aware of one odd detail after another in the sleeping figure, and guessed what had happened. How very stupid! And how ridiculous he would seem if the sleeper were to awaken and see that she was the victim of a silly mistake. It would be equally silly to pursue the lady he had come for, now that she had made her feelings so clear. A new thought came to him: might this be the girl who had so interested him in the lamplight? If so, what had he to lose? It will be observed that a certain fickleness was at work.
The girl was now awake, and very surprised. Genji felt a little sorry for her. But though inexperienced in the ways of love, she was bright and modern, and she had not entirely lost her composure. He was at first reluctant to identify himself. She would presently guess, however, and what did it matter if she did? As for the unfriendly one who had ned him and who was so concerned about appearances — he did have to think of her reputation, and so he said to the girl that he had taken advantage of directional taboos to visit her. A more experienced lady would have had no trouble guessing the truth, but this one did not sense that his explanation was a little forced. He was not displeased with her, nor was he strongly drawn to her. His heart was resentfully on the other. No doubt she would be off in some hidden chamber gloating
