hedge. His attendants had gone back to the hermit’s cave and only Koremitsu was with him. In the western wing, opposite which he was standing, was a nun at her devotions. The blind was partly raised. He thought she seemed to be dedicating flowers to an image. Sitting near the middle pillar, a sutra-book propped upon a stool by her side, was another nun. She was reading aloud; there was a look of great unhappiness in her face. She seemed to be about forty; not a woman of the common people. Her skin was white and very fine, and though she was much emaciated, there was a certain roundness and fulness in her cheeks, and her hair, clipped short on a level with her eyes, hung in so delicate a fringe across her brow that she looked, thought Genji, more elegant and even fashionable in this convent guise, than if her hair had been long. Two very well-conditioned maids waited upon her. Several little girls came running in and out of the room at play. Among them was one who seemed to be about ten years old. She came running into the room dressed in a rather worn white frock lined with stuff of a deep saffron colour. Never had he seen a child like this. What an astonishing creature she would grow into! Her hair, thick and wavy, stood out fan-wise about her head. She was very flushed and her lips were trembling. ‘What is it? Have you quarrelled with one of the other little girls?’ The nun raised her head as she spoke and Genji fancied that there was some resemblance between her and the child. No doubt she was its mother. ‘Inu has let out my sparrow—the little one that I kept in the clothes-basket,’ she said, looking very unhappy. ‘What a tiresome boy that Inu is!’ said one of the two maids. ‘He deserves a good scolding for playing such a stupid trick. Where can it have got to? And this after we had taken so much trouble to tame it nicely! I only hope the crows have not found
