“Your long continued and able service,” said Ikamon with enthusiasm, when advised of their plans, “demands some recognition at the hands of those who can ill afford to lose your presence at court. And to me, sir, it is the greatest pleasure of my life to offer some entertainment to my friends and to your friends and to be permitted the privilege. Come, my good Maido, you shall not say no, and Shibusawa, I venture, will not.”

“My son-in-law, my Ikamon, your good protestations overwhelm me. I certainly do not deserve such kindly notice. I cannot make you a ready answer—Shibusawa, will you be so good as to speak for me?”

“Yes, father,” said the son, politely bowing. “If his highness, the prime minister, so desires, I feel that it is a great privilege to acknowledge the honour.”

“And Ikamon shall make the occasion worthy the guests,” said the designing official, enthusiastic over the prospects.

Now Maido and his family could not make so important a move without first obtaining the consent of the shogun, and as this rested primarily with the prime minister, Shibusawa may have had good reason for so quickly acceding to the doing of what he knew to be tainted with something more than mere friendship. They earnestly desired the privilege of absenting themselves from the capital, not alone that Maido might enjoy the freedom of his former life and the intercourse with his people, but that Shibusawa might begin his active career at home, where he could better become acquainted, and familiarise himself with the needs and resources of the prefecture. Maido, now in his declining years, also craved the liberty of his child’s companionship freed from the cares of court life, especially that there were no pressing duties at the capital. He therefore set forth his reasons and requests in a letter, forthwith despatched to the department.

The answer soon came back at the hands of Ikamon himself, who, as a mark of extreme deference, took along for the first time his respected wife, Yasuko, a courtesy which so pleased Maido that he never forgot the incident. Indeed, they were received with so much cordiality that the set call was soon turned into an informal affair, and the little party did not break up until a late hour. After refreshments had been served they sat pleasantly chatting, the two elders about matters interesting to them, thus leaving Yasuko and Shibusawa to indulge themselves as they liked.

It was Shibusawa’s first real opportunity to hear the neighbourhood gossip, and while not at all a busybody he took advantage of the occasion to learn some of the doings affecting him most. But Yasuko was little given to gadding about, and in consequence not as conversant with the neighbourhood affairs as some others. Indeed, she had never heard of such a person as Kinsan,—nor did Shibusawa suspect that she had ever had an opportunity or reason to hear of one in her caste,—therefore, however much desired, though not expected, he gained no information in that direction.

“I do wish you would try to see Nehachibana before you go away to Kanazawa. I fear it may be a long time, Shibusawa, before you shall again have a chance.” said Yasuko, earnestly, while they were alone and out of hearing distance of the rest of those present.

“I should very much like to,” answered he, interestedly; “but I am so prejudiced against that husband of hers, Tetsutaisho, that I almost dread to go.”

“But she is so disconsolate! And, poor thing, she is jealous, and yet so wrapped up in him. I wonder she does not do some dreadful thing.”