Genji, as with many backward glances he went upon his way, paid little heed to the beauty of the dawn. He would send her a message? No, even that was utterly impossible. And so, in great unhappiness he returned to his wife’s house.
He would gladly have slept a little, but could not stop trying to invent some way of seeing her again; or when that seemed hopeless, imagining to himself all that must now be going on in her mind. She was no great beauty, Genji reflected, and yet one could not say that she was ugly. Yes, she was in every sense a member of that Middle Class upon which Uma no Kami had given them so complete a dissertation.
He stayed for some while at the Great Hall, and finding that, try as he might, he could not stop thinking about her and longing for her, at last in despair he sent for Ki no Kami and said to him ‘Why do you not let me have that boy in my service,—the Chūnagon’s son, whom I saw at your house? He is a likely looking boy, and I might make him my body-servant, or even recommend him to the Emperor.’ ‘I am sensible of your kindness’ said Ki no Kami, ‘I will mention what you have said to the boy’s sister.’ This answer irritated Genji, but he continued: ‘And has this lady given you step-brothers my lord?’ ‘Sir, she has been married these two years, but has had no child. It seems that in making this marriage she disobeyed her father’s last injunctions, and this has set her against her husband.’
Genji: ‘That is sad indeed: I am told that she is not ill-looking. Is that so?’
Ki no Kami: ‘I believe she is considered quite passable. But I have had very little to do with her. Intimacy between step-children and step-parents is indeed proverbially difficult.’
