Part 29

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CHAPTER XI

A MIRROR AND A PHOTOGRAPH

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CHAPTER XI

A MIRROR AND A PHOTOGRAPH

“WHY do you weep?” asked Sado-ko.

“O noble princess,” stammered Natsu-no, “I would that you could weep with me.”

“Maiden, I have shed all the tears that I can spare.”

The princess arose, to stand for a moment in indecisive silence. For the space of an hour, princess and maid had sat in silence in the darkened chamber.

“Bring a light, maiden,” said the princess, “but do not awaken the pages. Serve me to-night alone.”

The maid bowed obediently. From the adjoining room she brought a lighted andon, and hesitatingly set it on the floor, looking wistfully meanwhile at her mistress.

“Go now to your deserved sleep, good maid,” said Sado-ko, indicating the chamber beyond.

“And you, sweet mistress?”

“I will not need your further offices to-night.”

“Pray you, dear princess, permit the humble one to robe you for the night.”

“I have spoken, Natsu-no.”

The maid turned unwillingly, and pushing slowly aside the sliding doors, disappeared within.

Sado-ko lifted the andon and carried it across the room. Holding it in her hand on a level with her eyes, she examined the wall, and found a sliding panel. This she pushed aside, drew from out the recess an ancient rounded mirror. She set the andon on the floor, and then lay down beside it. Thus, lying sidewise, the light at her head, she could hold the mirror before her face, and see the reflection within.

For a long time she seemed to study the features in silence. Then sitting up again she drew from her sleeve a piece of modern cardboard, such as foreign photographers use. This she also held to the andon light.

The face which had looked at her from the mirror now stared up at her with cold, inscrutable eyes from the photograph in her hand. Yet there was a subtle difference in the expression of the face of the mirror, and that of the card, for the one was wistful, soul-eyed, and appealing, while the other was of that perfect waxen type of woman whose soul one dreams of but seldom sees. The one was the face of the statue, the other that of the statue come to life.

Suddenly Sado-ko set picture and mirror aside, and arising, crossed to the sliding doors. These she pushed apart.

“Maiden!” she called into the room, “Natsu-no.”

The tired waiting-woman was asleep by the dividing shoji. She awoke with a start and hastened to her mistress, murmuring her apologies.

“Come hither,” said the princess. “I have something here to show you.”

She led the maid by the sleeve to the andon upon the floor. Together they crouched beside it, while Sado-ko gave the picture into the hands of Natsu-no. The maid stared at it in some bewilderment, then held it further in the light.

“Tell me, maiden, who is this?”

Still the maid held it in the light. Her eyes widened, then suddenly she bent her head before the pictured face, next to the floor.