As he knelt at her bedside, she said to him:—
"Nagao-Sama, my betrothed, we were promised to each other from the time of our childhood; and we were to have been married at the end of this year. But now I am going to die;—the gods know what is best for us. If I were able to live for some years longer, I could only continue to be a cause of trouble and grief to others. With this frail body, I could not be a good wife; and therefore even to wish to live, for your sake, would be a very selfish wish. I am quite resigned to die; and I want you to promise that you will not grieve.... Besides, I want to tell you that I think we shall meet again."...
"Indeed we shall meet again," Nagao answered earnestly. "And in that Pure Land there will be no pain of separation."
"Nay, nay!" she responded softly, "I meant not the Pure Land. I believe that we are destined to meet again in this world,—although I shall be buried to-morrow."
Nagao looked at her wonderingly, and saw her smile at his wonder. She continued, in her gentle, dreamy voice,—