“Then the law is unjust, and there is a better way.”

“Fashion is inexorable, and the law must be upheld.”

“Whether the fashion or the law, it is wrong. A mother’s breast is a woman’s joy.”

“Obedience is a woman’s highest virtue.”

Takara understood fully the force as well as the law of her chosen lord’s argument, though she was none the less aware of her own recourse. While she felt the chagrin of defeat she realised the danger of appeal; therefore she concluded to bide her time and make the best use of her opportunities. Her love for him was not dead, but there was awakening within her a new light, a better purpose.

Nehachibana, though better informed, had been the more easily deceived. Not that she in the least misunderstood her husband’s motive in foisting upon her another and a still more unwelcome rival, but that she entirely mistook Kinsan’s position. Nehachibana loved Tetsutaisho—just why she had never stopped to inquire. If it was because she was his wife, her love was none the less intense; and because she was in love with him, she thought every other woman must be—at least all those who evinced the slightest interest, whether courted or courting. And if she was to share another portion, she found much consolation if not happiness in the thought that Takara, too, must lose in like proportion. It was a reiteration of the old adage that there can be no great loss without some small gain; a jealous reward and a revengeful satisfaction. She now pitied Takara and hated Kinsan (in virtue of a community of feeling)—the one because of her position, the other in consequence of hers.

The mother’s indifference proved to be as great a blessing to Kinsan as it was a curse to Nehachibana. What the one gained by being let alone the other lost in virtue of being served likewise, thus results struck a happy balance. But it was from another source that fear and anxiety came to both alike, to Nehachibana because of neglect and to Kinsan because of danger.

As the last sight of the latter’s childhood home had vanished from her view she bent down under the weight of her grief, but when she had arrived at Tetsutaisho’s place of sin and had been brought face to face with his mock glances she fell upon her knees, not in humble supplication, but in the full recognition of her weakness. It was then that she prayed as only one can pray who values life less than honour; and when the fiendish touch came she did not yield, but shrank from him and spoke her mind in a voice that is beyond the power of words. Sheer courage lost him his victim, determination saved her.

Stunned by the force of her great purity, he did not lessen his persistence, but delayed from time to time a more cowardly intention; finally there dawned within him the impulse of a purer love, which gradually overcame his weakness and made it possible to find a better way. He decided now to hold her in reality as a servant, and on the seventh day after the birth of the child, himself took it, and carrying it to Kinsan, placed it in her arms and told her that it should be her charge. It was a fine, large boy, the eyes and mould revealing its mother’s heritage, and as Tetsutaisho gave Kinsan the baby, he bade her call it Sodachinojoi, and say nothing more. Then he said to her:

“You have refused me; now you must serve mine. So long as you do that, and do it well, and as I bid, you shall know no penalty, though it is a grave sin to oppose your master’s will. And when you have done, I shall trust to gratitude for what you have so persistently withheld. Go now, and beware of the inquisitive.”