does not want her to hear the little gentleman play on the zithern. There will be a sad awakening for him one day, if he goes on treating them like that….’ When Tō no Chūjō at length withdrew, he remembered that he had not given certain instructions to one of the Princess’s ladies, and stealing back into the room he delivered his message as quietly as possible and was on his way out of the room again, when he caught the sound of his own name. A group of ancient gentlewomen at the far end of the apartment had not noticed his return and their whispering had gone on uninterrupted. He stood still and, listening intently, heard the words: ‘He is supposed to be a very clever man. But people are always fools when it comes to dealing with their own children. I could never see any sense at all in that proverb—you know the one I mean—“No one knows a child but its parents.” All nonsense, I say,’ and she nudged her neighbour expressively. This was a shock to Chūjō. It meant, he realized as he hurried from the room, that the friendship between these two children, which he had hoped to keep within bounds, had already, in the eyes of the household, taken on a romantic tinge. The old ladies within suddenly heard the sharp cry of Chūjō’s outriders. ‘Well! What do you think of that?’ they said. ‘He’s only just starting! Where has he been hiding all this time? I’ll tell you what. He’s up to some of his old tricks again, you mark my words!’ And another: ‘I thought a fresh puff of scent blew this way; but little Prince Yūgiri has got some just like it, and I fancied it was his. Do you think His Excellency was anywhere round here? It would be a terrible thing for all of us if he heard what we said after we thought he had gone away. He’s got a hasty temper….’ ‘Well, after all, there is really nothing to worry about,’ thought Tō no Chūjō, as he drove to the Palace. ‘It is perfectly natural that they
