CHAPTER X
THE TYPHOON
This year great pains had been taken to improve the Empress Akikonomu’s domain; and by now her gardens were aglow with the varied tints of innumerable frost-stained leaves and autumn flowers. Above all, the new pergolas made an admirable show, now that their timber, here stripped of bark, there used in its natural state, was thickly interwoven with blossoming boughs. And when at morning and evening the sun slanted across the dewy gardens, it was as though every flower and tree were decked with strings of glittering pearls. Those who but a few months back had been carried away by the spring-time loveliness of the Southern Garden, could not fail, as they gazed upon the colder beauty of this autumnal scene, with one accord to resume their earlier preference. The lovers of autumn have, I am persuaded, at all times embraced the larger part of mankind; and in thus returning to their allegiance the Empress’s companions were but following their natural bent.
So delighted was Akikonomu with the scene I have described that she asked for leave of absence from the Emperor and settled for a while in her own establishment. Unfortunately the anniversary of the late Prince Zembō’s[1] death fell in the eighth month, and it was with great anxiety that she watched Autumn’s almost hourly advance; for she feared that the best month would be over before she
- ↑ Her father; Rokujō’s husband, who died early.
