The letter which he had handed to Murasaki was spread open before her; but she was not reading it. 'I am sure you have been peeping,' he said at last. 'That way of reading letters is very tiring,' and he smiled at her with such evident affection that the tears welled to her eyes. 'There is something I want to talk to you about,' he said, bending over her; 'I have seen the little girl and, as a matter of fact, taken a great fancy to her. I naturally want to do as well for her as I can, but under the circumstances that is far from easy, and I am rather worried about it. I want you to think about the matter a little, and see if you cannot help me. What can be done? For example, would you be willing to have her here and bring her up as your own child? She is almost three years old, and at that age they are so pretty and innocent that it is very hard indeed to harden one's heart against them. It is getting to be time that she came out of her long clothes. Would you be very much upset if I asked you to take charge of the ceremony?'[1] 'I was cross just now,' she said; 'but I knew you were thinking all the while about other things, and there seemed to be no use in pretending we were friends if we were not. I should love to look after the little girl. She is just the age I like best.' She laughed with joy at the thought of having such a creature in her arms, for she was passionately fond of children. Should he try to secure the child? Genji was still very doubtful. Visits to Ōi were very difficult to arrange, and he seldom contrived to get there except on the two days in each month when he went over to hear the service at his chapel near Saga.
Thus though the Lady of Akashi fared considerably better than the Weaving Lady[2] in the story and though her expectations were of the most moderate description, it would have been strange had these hurried visits contented her.
