Part 68

“Go to sleep, Ohano,” growled her husband; “surmises and convictions are sometimes treasonable and wicked.”

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CHAPTER XXVII

A GRACIOUS PRINCESS AT LAST

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CHAPTER XXVII

A GRACIOUS PRINCESS AT LAST

THE following morning Masago, irritated and nervous, sat in a chamber of the palace Aoyama. Impatiently she chided Madame Bara, the chaperon.

“I am tired of your voice,” she said. “Do not speak further, or better still, leave me, if you please.”

The woman, bowing deeply, left her mistress alone. Then Masago called:—

“Natsu-no! Where are you?”

Upon the instant appeared the waiting-woman of the Princess Sado-ko. Masago instructed:—

“Look out once again and tell me if he comes.”

There was silence for a moment, as the maid passed into the adjoining room and leaning from the casement looked toward the front part of the palace. Soon her voice, raised and mechanical, answered the impatient query of Masago.

“He comes not yet!” she said.

“Look again,” said Masago; “do not leave the casement until he comes.”

Natsu-no was no longer young. She shivered at the open casement through which came the morning air; her eyes were blue with cold, and tired for sleep, for Natsu-no had spent the night in secret tears. After all these days she knew now where her mistress was, yet fate—a thing she was too insignificant to fight against—chained her like a slave to this girl-autocrat.

When, from the direction of the palace reserved for the men of the household, Komatzu appeared, the woman drew the shutters. Then, shuffling to the other room, she announced, “He comes!”

Masago sprang to her feet. She held out both her hands toward Komatzu when he entered, but he did not touch them. His eyes were dark, drawn into a heavy frown.

“Have you heard the joyful news?” she cried.

“What news?”

“Word came this morning by the divine barbarian wires from Tokyo that my betrothal with the Crown Prince had been peremptorily annulled. Why, you do not appear glad at the news!”

“I have heard it,” he said; “there are other things which trouble me. Princess, I ask an explanation of your Highness. Nay, I demand it. Some months ago a rumor coupled your name with a low artist-man. You start and blush. Was the rumor only malice?”

Masago looked at him reproachfully. She said:—

“Purely so.”

“Then, cousin, give me an explanation of your last night’s conduct. You have recovered from your indisposition, which still had a cause. Why did you journey in such haste to Kamakura?”

Tears fell. Masago’s voice broke and trembled. “I was homesick,” she replied in a low voice; “that is the truth, Komatzu. The gods are my witnesses.”

“Homesick for the merchant’s home, friends of the artist-man?”