Yet time slipped quickly by for these easeful, somewhat indolent Japanese, who lounged, smoked, and sipped their saké, unmindful of the mist.
“The fog is spreading,” said the youth Okido. “Shall we not close the shoji walls and bring andons for our honored guests?”
“My son has not returned,” said the gentle voice of the father; “yet—” He glanced about uneasily, in the deepening shadow, scarcely able to distinguish one guest from another. He arose, and shook the skirt of his hakama. In a moment he recalled that, father though he was, yet he was still a host. He clapped his hands, and bade the answering servant close the shoji walls, and bring lights.
It was not five o’clock in the afternoon, yet the gray world without told of close creeping night.
At six the ladies of the house came to the upper story. Madame Kamura was pale; her daughter, a young girl of seventeen, showed a somewhat frightened countenance, while Ohano alone was placid, and seemingly contented of mind.
The fog grew thicker every moment, Madame Kamura told her husband, and as she feared it was not possible their guests could leave the house that night, she had ordered dinner served, and would prepare the sleeping chambers. She spoke only of the comfort of her guests. Although Junzo had not returned, no words escaped her careful lips of that which wrenched her mother-heart.
Her husband thanked her for her thoughtfulness, and said that they would be ready for the honorable meal, but begged her not to speak of rest. They would keep the council until the midnight hour.
And so the evening meal was served. The night was spent in quiet saké sipping, and dreamy introspection by the guests, while the heart of the genial host was heavy.
In a chamber of the lower story Ohano snored in healthy forgetfulness of all the little ills of life. The maiden Haru-no drowsed by the shoji of the Ozashiki; and by her side, immovable and silent, but with wide, wakeful eyes, the mother of Kamura Junzo kept the night watch.
“It is the fate of the humble female,” she had protested, when the young Haru-no had begged her to sleep. “Bear this precept, daughter, always in your mind: The mother, wife, the sister, daughter, must ever watch and wait upon the comfort of the male. It is the law; it is our duty; it is our fate. We bow to it with submissive philosophy.”