should have made friends.’ But it really would be very galling if after the failure of Lady Chūjō to get herself made Empress, Lady Kumoi should through this boy-and-girl affair lose her chance of becoming Empress Presumptive.
Now as always, he was really on very good terms with Genji; but, just as in old days, their interests sometimes clashed, and Chūjō lay awake a long while calling to mind their boyish rivalry and later jealousies. The old princess saw all that was going on; but Yūgiri was her favourite grand-child, and whatever he did she accepted as perfectly justified. But she too was very much irritated by various conversations that she overheard, and henceforward watched over the situation with all the concentration of which her vigorous and somewhat acrid nature was capable.
Only two days later Tō no Chūjō came to his mother’s rooms again. The princess was extremely flattered and pleased; it was seldom that he honoured her with two visits in such rapid succession. Before receiving him she had her hair set to rights and sent for her best gown; for though he was her own child he had become so important that she never felt quite sure of herself in his presence, and was as anxious to make a good impression as if he had been a complete stranger. It was soon evident on this occasion that he was in a very bad temper: ‘I hesitated to come again so soon,’ he said; ‘I am afraid your servants must think it very strange. I know I am not so competent as my father and cannot look after you as he did; but we have always seen a great deal of one another and, I hope, always shall. Look back over all that time, and I do not think you will be able to recall one occasion upon which there has been any sort of breach or misunderstanding between us. It never occurred to me as possible that I should ever come here with the express purpose of scolding you, least of all about an affair of this particular sort; but that is why I
