AS a matter of expediency, the father told Gonji, it would be necessary
to divorce Moonlight. One could not allow one’s family to be wiped out
because of a matter of mere sentiment and passion. Doubtless, the young
wife, who had proved a most docile and obedient daughter-in-law in every
way, would see the necessity of dissolving the union.
Gonji pleaded for time, one, two, three more years. Moonlight was very
young. They could afford to wait.
His father, at heart as soft toward his son as his wife was stern,
surrendered, as always.
“Arrange it with your mother, then. I am going to Tokio for a week.”
It was a difficult subject to breach to his mother, and Gonji avoided it
fearfully; nor did he mention the matter to his wife, whose wistful
glance he had begun to avoid. Indeed, he saw less of his wife each day,
for his mother was careful to keep the girl constantly employed in her
service, and in the intervals of leisure Moonlight would go to the
shrines or to the Kiyomidzu springs. Gonji, moreover, was making an
effort to conceal somewhat of his affection for his wife from his mother
in an effort to conciliate her; and he even made advances toward the
older lady, waiting upon her with great thoughtfulness and seeming
anxious for her constant comfort and happiness. But all his efforts met
with satirical and acid remarks from his mother, and not for a moment
did she change in her attitude to the young wife.
The subject, avoided as it had been by the young husband, was bound to
come up at last. It was plain that it occupied the mind of Lady Saito at
this time to the exclusion of all else. She broached it herself one
morning at breakfast, when, besides her son and her daughter-in-law,
Ohano was present, ostentatiously vying with the young wife in
replenishing the older woman’s plate and cup.
“Now,” said Lady Saito, abruptly, turning over her rice bowl to signify
her meal was ended, “it must be plain to both of you that things cannot
continue as they are. The fate of all our ancestors is menaced. Come,
Moonlight, lift up your head. Suggest some solution of the problem.”
“I will double my offerings at the shrines,” said the young creature,
with quivering lips; and at the contemptuous movement of her
mother-in-law, and the smile upon Ohano’s face, she added, desperately:
“I will wear my knees out, if necessary. I will not leave the springs at
all, till the gods have heard my prayer.”
Lady Saito tapped her finger irritably against the tobacco-bon. Ohano
solicitously filled and lit the long-stemmed pipe, and refilled and
relit it ere the mother of Gonji spoke again.
“Of course, it is very hard. So is everything in life—hard! We learn
that as we grow older; but there are the comforting words of the
philosophers. You should study well the ‘Greater Learning for Women.’
Really, my girl, you will find there is even a satisfaction in
unselfishness.”
Two red spots, hectic and feverish, stole into the waxen cheeks of the
young wife. Her fingers writhed mechanically. Her eyes were riveted in
fascination upon the face of the one who had tormented her now for so
long. Wayward, passionate, savage impulses swept over her. She felt an
intense longing to strike out—just once!
Something was touching her hand. Her fingers closed spasmodically about
Gonji’s. A sob rose stranglingly in her throat, but she held herself
stiffly erect. Death, she felt, would be preferable, rather than that
they should see how she was suffering.
The mother-in-law’s voice droned on monotonously:
“I have been well advised in the matter. Yes, I even called in the
counsel of your uncle, Ohano,” turning toward Ohano, who was
affectionately waiting upon her. “When your father returns, my children,
there shall be a family council. Be assured, Moonlight, that, whatever
comes, you will be properly supported by the Saito family for the rest
of your days, though I have no doubt at all but that you will shortly
marry. With a dowry from the Saito and a pretty face—well, a pretty face
often accomplishes astonishing things. See the case of our own son. It
was apparent to every one he was bewitched, obsessed! He would have his
way! Contemplated suppuku! Forgot his duty to his parents, his
ancestors—forgot that in Japan duty is higher than love. He made great
promises. Well, we listened. At the time I bade him ponder the proverb:
‘Beware of a beautiful woman. She is like red pepper!’—will burn, sting,
is death to those who touch her, and—”
“Mother!”
“Is it a new custom to interrupt the head of the house?”
The young man’s voice trembled with repressed feeling, but there was a
certain expression of outraged dignity in his face as he looked at his
mother fairly.
“In the absence of the honorable father, the son is the legitimate head
of the household,” he said.
It was the first time he had spoken thus to her. He had restrained
himself during this last year, for fear of bringing down his mother’s
wrath upon the defenseless head of Moonlight.
The hand that pounded the ash from her pipe trembled now, and her lips
had become a thin, compressed line. She started to arise, but Ohano
sprang to her assistance, and she leaned against the girl as she flung
back, almost snarlingly, the words at her son:
“So be it, august authority! We will await the return of thy father.
_He_ will then decide the fate of this—”
“No, mother,” he broke in, “I make humble apology. Speak your will, but
pity us, your children. We desire to be filial, obedient, but it is
cruel, hard!”
“Hard!” cried his mother, savagely. “Is it harder than for a mother to
see her only son enmeshed in the web of a vile Spider?”
Moonlight had sprung up sharply now. Her eyes were like wells of fire
as, her bosom heaving, she started toward the older woman. A grim smile
distorted the features of the Lady Saito Ichigo. As the girl advanced
toward her, with that unconsciously threatening motion, this old woman
of patrician ancestry neither moved nor retreated a space. In her cold,
sneering gaze one read the disdain of the woman of caste who sees one
whom she deems beneath her betray her lowly origin.
“Moonlight!” She felt herself caught by the shoulders in a grip that
almost pained. She caught but a glimpse of his face. It was livid.
Feeling that he, too, was deserting her, she uttered a loud cry, and
covering her face with her sleeve, she fled from the room.
And all that night she lay weeping and trembling in the arms of her
husband. In vain he besought her not to abandon herself to such wild and
terrible grief. Moonlight was very, very sure, she told him, that all
the gods of the heavens and the seas had deserted her forever and
forever. She dreamed of an abyss into which she was pushed and which
closed inexorably about her, and from which not even the loving arms of
the Lord Saito Gonji could rescue her.
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