witchery so wholly unconscious that Genji laughed. ‘Even if you cannot write properly it will never do for us to let you off altogether. Let me give you a lesson.’ With many timid glances towards him she began to write. Even the childish manner in which she grasped the brush gave him a thrill of delight which he was at a loss to explain. ‘Oh, I have spoiled it’ she suddenly cried out and blushing hid from him what she had written. But he forced her to let him see it and found the poem: ‘I do not know what put Musashi into your head and am very puzzled. What plant is it that you say is a relative of mine?’ It was written in a large childish hand which was indeed very undeveloped, but was nevertheless full of promise. It showed a strong resemblance to the late nun’s writing. He felt certain that if she were given up-to-date copy-books she would soon write very nicely.
Next they built houses for the dolls and played so long at this game together that Genji forgot for a while the great anxiety[1] which was at that time preying upon his mind.
The servants who had been left behind at Murasaki’s house were extremely embarrassed when Prince Hyōbukyō came to fetch her. Genji had made them promise for a time at any rate to tell no one of what had happened and Shōnagon had seemed to agree that this was best. Accordingly he could get nothing out of them save that Shōnagon had taken the child away with her without saying anything about where she was going. The Prince felt completely baffled. Perhaps the grandmother had instilled into the nurse’s mind the idea that things would not go smoothly for the child at his palace. In that case the nurse with an excess of craftiness might, instead of openly saying that she feared the child would not be well treated under his roof, have thought it wiser to make off with her when
- ↑ The pregnancy of Fujitsubo.
