consequences of her resentment.’ ‘Wicked as he thinks me already,’ said Genji to himself while this lecture was going on, ‘there is a much worse enormity of which he as yet knows nothing.’ And stupefied with horror at the thought of what would ensue should his father ever discover this hideous secret, he bowed and left the room.
What the ex-Emperor had said about ruining other people’s reputations cut him to the quick. He realized that Rokujō’s rank and widowed position entitled her to the utmost consideration. But after all it was not he who had made public property of the affair; on the contrary he had done everything in his power to prevent its becoming known. There had always been a certain condescension in her treatment of him, arising perhaps from the inequality of their ages,[1] and his estrangement from her was solely due to the coldness with which she had for a long time received him. That their private affairs were now known not only to the ex-Emperor but also presumably to the whole Court showed a lack of reticence which seemed to him deplorable.
Among others who heard of the business was Princess Asagao.[2] Determined that she at least would not submit herself to such treatment she ceased to answer his letters even with the short and guarded replies that she had been in the habit of sending to him. Nevertheless he found it hard to believe that so gentle-mannered a creature was thinking unkindly of him and continued to regard her with devoted admiration.
Princess Aoi when the story reached her ears was of course distressed by this new instance of his fickleness; but she felt that it was useless, now that his infidelity was open and unabashed, to protest against one particular injury,
