of her husband, she enjoyed her new life immensely. But there were afternoons when she found it terribly lonely all by herself. Whenever this mood came upon her, she would take out her workbox, and from the bottom of it she would take out some pink sheets of letter-paper, and would pore over them for a long time. One of the letters she read contained the following passage:—
“… Realising that today is the last day that I can sit close to you, my dearest sister, I cannot stop the tears from falling down my cheeks as I write this letter. Oh, my dearest, I entreat you to forgive me. I entreat you with all my heart. Your poor little sister does not know what to say, or how to express her love for your most noble act of self-sacrifice.
“I know quite well that you decided this hurried marriage only for the sake of your poor sister. Even though you may deny it from your kindness of heart, I know that it is true. Do you remember asking me, while we were at the Imperial Theatre together a few nights ago, if I liked Mr. Shunkichi? And when I told you that I did, you kindly advised me to marry him, promising that you would do all in your power to help me in every way that was possible.
“That evening you must have already read the letter which I had ready to post to him. When I lost that letter, I bore you a terrible resentment. But now I understand, and I beg you to forgive me, my dearest, for now I realise how I wronged you.
“I must tell you now that even your gentlest and
