“Ah, what have I been saying? Little one, you do not know, you cannot
dream of the extent of your own innocence. I would be less than man if
your words did not pierce my heart and thrill my whole being. Yet I am
not altogether selfish—no—though I have spent years of my life among
those who were so. I will not take advantage of the little one. She
shall have every opportunity her birth, her beauty, demands. You will go
with your father, Hyacinth. Nay, do not interrupt me. It will be for
your good. You must see this other world, to which you rightfully
belong. Then when you have come to years of womanhood you can decide for
yourself.”
“I am already a woman,” she said, tremulously.
“Only a child—a little girl,” he said, softly; “a poor little one who
has been imprisoned so long she has come to believe her own cage is
gilded, and will not take her freedom when the doors are opened.”
Earnestly she looked into his face.
“And if I go to the West country, you, too, will go with me, will you
not, Koma?”
He shook his head, smiling sadly.
“No. I would not have the right.”
“I will not go, then,” she said, simply. “If they should force me I can
be as brave as others. I would take my life.”
“No, you would not do so, for then you would break our hearts.”
“Yet you have no pity for mine,” she said, near to tears now.
“Poor little heart!” he whispered, tenderly.
After a moment she inquired, quietly:
“And did you come with my august parent, then?”
“On the same steamer—yes. It was an accidental meeting.”
“Ah, then you did not come back for the purpose of helping them?”
“No, I had another purpose. I came to break your betrothal with
Yamashiro Yoshida.”
“Well, they have saved you that trouble,” she said, sighing.
He regarded her keenly.
“Why do you sigh? You have regrets?”
“Yes,” she admitted, “for if they had not cast me off I could have
remained in Japan. Now—” Her voice faltered and she turned her head
away.
“Now?” he repeated.
“Ah, yes,” she said, “I begin to see there is nothing else to be done. I
am resigned.”
“You are resigned,” he repeated, disappointment showing in his
transparent face.
“Yes,” she said, with a fleeting upward glance at his face.
She suddenly laughed quite merrily.
“Come,” she said, “let us go home. I must humbly submit myself to the
august will of my honorable parent.”
Koma said never a word. Manlike, he was regretting his late words of
advised self-sacrifice.
------------------------------------------------------------------------