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"Honorable Young Lady of the House," said Mata, now more severely, "I came to announce your bath. The august father having already entered and withdrawn, it is your turn." This time Umè answered her, not, however, changing her position. "I do not care to take the bath to-night. You enter, I pray, without further waiting. I I should like to be left alone, nurse.
There was no anger or resentment in his feeling toward Kano, or even the old scourge Mata. No, he was too happy! To lie dreaming on the fragrant, matted floor near Umè, where he could listen to her soft breathing and at times pull her closer by a silken sleeve, this was enough for Tatsu. Nothing had power to arouse in him a sense of duty, of obligation to himself, or to his adopted father.
Kimiko had made the match, and used her wicked knowledge of men in making it. She chose a very plain, honest, old-fashioned merchant, a man who could not have been bad, even if he tried. Ume did not question the wisdom of her sister's choice, which time proved fortunate.
"I suppose you know, Miss Umè, that your father may actually adopt this goblin from Kiu Shiu!" "Ah, do you mean Sir Tatsu? Yes, I know. He, my father, has always longed to have a son." "A son is desirable when the price is not too great," said the old dame, nodding sagely.
Then barefooted, ungirdled, with hair unbound, she stepped down upon the stone beneath the tree, and then to the garden path. The pebbles of the garden were slippery and cold under the feet that pressed them. Also they hurt a little. Umè longed to return for her straw sandals, but this freedom of the night was already far too precious for jeopardy.
Umè could reach the highest shelf without standing on an inverted rice-pot, or the even more precarious fish-cleaning bench. And again, for a reason not quite plain to herself, Mata decided not to call.
"Thanks. I was sure you would remember," smiled the old man, and Mata, disarmed of her cynicism, could say no more. Umè remained in her chamber. She had not been seen since the dance. All her fusuma and shoji were closed.
Surely a demon of sleep has bewitched us." She had entered the girl's room, and now, while speaking, crossed the narrow space to fling wide, first the shoji, and then the outer amado. Umè moved lazily. Her lacquered pillow, with its bright cushion, rocked as she stirred. "No demon has found me, Mata San," she murmured, smiling.
Umè clenched her little hands together, then bowed far over, in token that she had heard. There were no words to say. For weeks now they had lived upon such money as this, namida-kane, "tear-money" the Japanese call it. Tatsu, helpless in his place, scowled and muttered for a moment, then rose and hurried out, leaving the meal unfinished. Umè watched him sadly, but did not follow.
And she loved him, almost too deeply for a woman of her class. She loved him, and was happy!" "Only one year!" sighed Umè. "But it must be a great thing to be happy even for one year. Some people are not happy ever at all." "One must not think of personal happiness, it is wicked. Does not even your old mumbling abbot on the hill tell you so much? And now, of all times, do not start the dreaming.
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