She did not doubt the reality of his feelings; but if at a time when they were both young enough to be forgiven a few indiscretions, when moreover her father was actually seeking to promote an alliance between them, she had without a moment’s hesitation refused to yield herself to him—what sense could there be, now that they were both past the age to which such irresponsible gallantries by right belong, what sense (she asked herself) could there be in parleying with him, indeed, in admitting him into her presence at all? He saw that she was absolutely unmoved by his appeal, and was both astonished and hurt. She meanwhile disliked intensely this frigid interchange of messages and notes, but for the moment saw no way of bringing it to a close. It was now getting late, a fierce wind had begun to blow and Genji, feeling a very real disappointment and distress, was about to make his way homeward, flinging out as he did so the parting verse:
‘No penance can your hard heart find save such as you long since have taught me to endure.’ As usual her gentlewomen insisted that she must send a reply, and reluctantly she wrote the verse; ‘Is it for me to change, for me who hear on every wind some tale that proves you, though the years go by, not other than you were?’
He burst into a great rage when he received her note, but a moment afterwards felt that he was behaving very childishly, and said to the gentlewoman who had brought it: ‘I would not for the world have any one know how I have been treated to-night. Promise me, I beg of you, that you will speak of it to no one; stay, you had best even deny that I was here at all….’ He whispered this in a very low voice; but some servants who were hanging about near by noticed the aside, and one of them said to another: ‘Look at that now! Poor gentleman! You can see she has sent him a very stinging reply. Even if she does not
