the gentle Owannon lay beside her. True, it was a girl. That was unfortunate from a Japanese man's point of view. But Owannon rebelliously pulled him down to her and confessed, with a light in her eyes that he had never before seen there, that she had treasonably prayed that it might be a girl! Kito capitulated to her eyes, and swore that he too had done so. I know not but he did—though it seems improbable. But we know that he was not a warrior, and we may presume that he had no mind to breed warriors. At all events, there was indisputable evidence of his satisfaction in the indiscriminate and lavish offerings he made at the neighboring shrines of all religions. The child grew amazingly, and they called her Yuki—the Snowflake. To Kito she was little short of angelic. Was his cup full now? Had each been asked what yet they required to be happy, I am persuaded each would have answered, "Nothing."
It was into this joy and peace, like a bolt from Fuji, that the summons to attend his lord in the field came to Kito. He had lost sight of the covenants upon which his happiness was founded. Kito was aghast, and for a moment rebellious. But Owannon,
