was left for her of his glory. Though one could not have said that the world
<P 460>
had forgotten her, it does change and move on. She felt closer to Yu~giri
than to her son, To~ no Chu~jo~.
Yu~giri was jumpy and fretful as he sat listening to the howl of the
wind. That glimpse of Murasaki had driven away the image that was so
much with him. He tried to think of other things. This would not do,
indeed it was rather terrible. But the same image was back again a moment
after he had driven it away. There could have been few examples in the
past of such beauty, nor were there likely to be many in the future. He
thought of the lady of the orange blossoms. It was sad for her, but compari-
son was not possible. How admirable it had been of Genji not to discard
so ill-favored a lady! Yu~giri was a very staid and sober young man who
did not permit himself wanton thoughts, but he went on thinking wist-
fully of the years it would add to a man's life to be with such beauty day
and night.
<N 4>
The storm quieted toward dawn, though there were still intermittent
showers. Reports came that several of the outbuildings at Rokujo~ had
collapsed. Yu~giri was worried about the lady of the orange blossoms. The
Rokujo~ grounds were vast and the buildings grand, and Genji's southeast
quarter would without question have been well guarded. Less well
guarded, the lady of the orange blossoms must have had a perilous time
in her northeast quarter. He set off for Rokujo~ before it was yet full
daylight. The wind was still strong enough to drive a chilly rain through
the carriage openings. Under unsettled skies, he felt very unsettled himself,
as if his spirit had flown off with the winds. Another source of disquiet
had been added to what had seemed sufficient disquiet already, and it was
of a strange and terrible kind, pointing the way to insanity.
He went first to the northeast quarter, where he found the lady of the
orange blossoms in a state of terror and exhaustion. He did what he could
to soothe her and gave orders for emergency repairs. Then he went to
Genji's southeast quarter. The shutters had not yet been raised Leaning
against the balustrade of the veranda, he surveyed the damage. Trees had
been uprooted on the hillocks and branches lay strewn over the garden.
The flowers were an almost complete loss. The garden was a clutter of
shingles and tiles and shutters and fences. The wan morning light was
caught by raindrops all across the sad expanse. Black clouds seethed and
boiled overhead. He coughed to announce his presence.
"Yu~giri is with us already." It was Genji's voice. "And here it is not
yet daylight."
There was a reply which Yu~giri did not catch, and Genji laughed and
said: "Not even in our earliest days together did you know the parting at
dawn so familiar to other ladies. You may find it painful at first."
This sort of bedroom talk had a very disturbing effect on a young man.
Yu~giri could not hear Murasaki's answers, but Genji's jocular manner gave
a sense of a union so close and perfect that no wedge could enter.
Genji himself raised the shutters. Yu~giri withdrew a few steps, not
wishing to be seen quite so near at hand.
<P 461>
"And how were things with your grandmother? I imagine she was
very pleased to see you."
"She did seem pleased. She weeps much too easily, and I had rather
a time of it."
Genji smiled. "She does not have many years left ahead of her. You
must be good to her. She complains about that son of hers. He lacks the
finer qualities of sympathy and understanding, she says. He does have a
flamboyant strain and a way of brushing things impatiently aside. When
it comes to demonstrating filial piety he puts on almost too good a show,
and one senses a certain carelessness in the small things that really matter.
But I do not wish to speak ill of him. He is a man of superior intelligence
and insight, and more talented than this inferior age of ours deserves. He
can be a bother at times, but there are not many men with so few faults.
But what a storm. I wonder if Her Majesty's men took proper care of her."
<N 5>
He sent Yu~giri with a message. "How did the screaming winds treat
you? I had an attack of chills just as they were their lunatic worst, and
so the hours went by and I was not very attentive. You must forgive me."
<P 462>
Yu~giri was very handsome in the early-morning light as he made his
way along a gallery and through a door to Akikonomu's southwest quarter.
He could see from the south veranda of the east wing that two shutters
and several blinds had been raised at the main hall. Women were visible
in the dim light beyond. Two or three had come forward and were leaning
against the balustrades. Who might they be? Though in casual dress, they
managed to look very elegant in multicolored robes that blended pleas-
antly in the twilight. Akikonomu had sent some little girls to lay out insect
cages in the damp garden. They had on robes of lavender and pink and
various deeper shades of purple, and yellow-green jackets lined with
green, all appropriately autumnal hues. Disappearing and reappearing
among the mists, they made a charming picture. Four and five of them with
cages of several colors were walking among the wasted flowers, picking a
wild carnation here and another flower there for their royal lady. The wind
seemed to bring a scent from even the scentless asters, most delightfully,
as if Akikonomu's own sleeves had brushed them. Thinking it improper
to advance further without announcing himself, Yu~giri quietly made his
presence known and stepped forward. The women withdrew inside,
though with no suggestion of surprise or confusion. Still a child when
Akikonomu had gone to court, he had had the privilege of her inner
chambers. Even now her women did not treat him as an outsider. Having
delivered Genji's message, he paused to talk of more personal matters with
such old friends as Saisho~ and Naishi. For all the informality, Akikonomu
maintained proud and strict discipline, the palpable presence of which
made him think of the ladies who so occupied and disturbed his thoughts.
The shutters had meanwhile been raised in Murasaki's quarter. She
was looking out over her flowers, the cause of such regrets the evening
before and now quite devastated.
Coming up to the stairs before the main hall, Yu~giri delivered a mes-
sage from Akikonomu.
"Her Majesty was sure that you would protect her from the winds?"
he said to Genji, "and thought it very foolish that she should be feeling
sorry for herself. She added that your inquiries brought great comfort."
"It is true that she has a timid strain in her. I imagine that she felt very
badly protected with only women around her--and rather resentful too."
As Genji raised the blinds to go inside and change into court dress that
he might call on her, Yu~giri saw sleeves under a low curtain very near at
hand. He knew whose they would be. His heart raced. Ashamed of him-
self, he looked away.
"See how handsome he is in the morning light," Genji said softly to
Murasaki as he knelt before a mirror. "We all know how badly illuminated
a father's heart is, and no doubt I have my blind spots. Yet I do think he
is rather pleasant to look at. He is still a boy, of course."
Probably he was thinking that for all the accumulated years he was
still rather pleasant to look at himself. He was feeling a little nervous. "I
<P 463>
am always on my mettle when I call upon Her Majesty. There is nothing
exactly intimidating about her, but she always seems to have so much in
reserve. That gentle surface conceals a very firm core."
Coming out, he found Yu~giri sunk in thought and not immediately
aware of his presence. Very much alive to such details, he went inside
again.
"Do you suppose he might have seen you in the confusion last night?
The corner door was open, you know."
"How could he possibly have?" Murasaki flushed. "I am very sure
that there was no one outside."
Very strange all the same, thought Genji.
While he was having his audience with Akikonomu, Yu~giri made light
talk with the women who had gathered at the gallery door. They thought
him unusually subdued.
<N 6>
Genji next went to inquire after the Akashi lady. Though she had not
summoned her steward, there were competent gardeners among her
women. They were down tending the flowers. Little girls, very pretty in
informal dress, were righting the trellises over which her favored gentians
and morning glories had been trained. She was at the veranda playing an
impromptu elegy on her koto. He took note of her admirable attention to
the proprieties: hearing him come up, she reached for a cloak on a nearby
rack and slipped it over her soft robes. He sat down beside her and made
his inquiries and was on his way once more.
She whispered to herself:
"Even the wind that rustles the leaves of the reeds
Is with me longer in my lonely vigil."
<N 7>
In terror through much of the night, Tamakazura had slept late and
was just now at her morning toilet. Genji silenced his men and came softly
up beside her. Screens and other furnishings were stacked untidily in a
corner and the rooms were in considerable disarray. The sunlight streamed
in upon almost startlingly fresh beauty. Genji sat down to make his inquir-
ies, and it annoyed her that he managed to give even them a suggestive
note.
"Your behavior," she said, "has been such that I rather hoped last
night to be carried off by the wind."
Genji was amused. "How rash of you--though I have no doubt that
you had a particular destination in mind. So I displease you more and more
all the time, do I? Well, that is as it should be."
Her thoughts exactly. She too had to smile, a glowing smile that was
very lovely indeed. A glow like a ho~zuki berry came through rich strands
of hair. If he had been searching for faults, he might have pointed out that
she smiled too broadly; but it was a very small fault.
Waiting through this apparently intimate $$ tete-a-tete, Yu~giri caught
<P 464>
sight of a somewhat disarranged curtain behind the corner blinds. Raising
it over the frame, he found that he had a clear view deep into the room.
He was rather startled at what he saw. They were father and daughter, to
be sure, but it was not as if she were an infant for Genji to take in his arms,
as he seemed about to do. Though on ready alert lest he be detected, Yu~giri
was spellbound. The girl turned away and sought to hide behind a pillar,
and as Genji pulled her towards him her hair streamed over her face, hiding
it from Yu~giri's view. Though obviously very uncomfortable, she let him
have his way. They seemed on very intimate terms indeed. Yu~giri was a
little shocked and more than a little puzzled. Genji knew all about women,
there could be no question of that. Perhaps because he had not had her
with him to fret and worry over since girlhood it was natural that he
should feel certain amorous impulses towards her. It was natural, but also
repellent. Yu~giri felt somehow ashamed, as if it were in a measure his
responsibility. She was a half sister and not a full sister and he saw that
he could himself be tempted. She was very tempting. She was not perhaps
the equal of the other lady of whom he had recently had a glimpse, but
she brought a smile of pleasure all the same. She would not have seemed
in hopeless competition with Murasaki. He thought of a rich profusion of
yamabuki sparkling with dew in the evening twilight. The image was of
spring and not autumn, of course, but it was the one that came to him all
the same. Indeed she might be thought even more beautiful than the
yamabuki, which after all has its ragged edges and untidy stamens.
They seemed to be talking in whispers, unaware, of course, that they
were being observed.
Suddenly very serious, Genji stood up. He softly repeated a poem
which the girl had recited in tones too low for Yu~giri to hear:
"The tempest blows, the maiden flower has fears
That the time has come for it to fade and die."
It brought both revulsion and fascination. But he could stay no longer.
He hoped he had misunderstood his father's answer:
"If it gives itself up to the dew beneath the tree,
It need not fear, the maiden flower, the winds.
"It should look to the example of the pliant bamboo."
<N 8>
He went next to see the lady of the orange blossoms. Perhaps because
the weather had suddenly turned chilly and she had not been expecting
guests, her older women were at their sewing and her younger women
were pressing bolts of cotton on long, narrow boxes of some description.
Scattered about the room were red silks beaten to a soft luster and gossa-
mers of a delicate saffron.
"Underrobes for Yu~giri? What a pity that you should have gone to so
much trouble when the royal garden party is sure to be called off. Every-
<P 465>
thing has been blown to pieces. We are going to have a wasted and
unlovely sort of autumn."
The fabrics were very beautiful indeed. She was every bit as accom-
plished at this sort of thing as Murasaki. A cloth with a floral pattern, just
out of the dyeing vats, was to become an informal court robe for Genji
himself. The dyes, from new flowers, were excellent.
"It would suit Yu~giri better," he said as he left. "It is a little too
youthful for me."
<N 9>
Yu~giri was not happy at being taken on this round of calls. There was
a letter which he wished to get off and soon it would be noon.
He went to his sister's rooms.
"She is over in the other wing," said her nurse. "She was so frightened
