The princess paused a moment as though to master her amazement.
“Loathe thought of union with Junzo!” she repeated, then laughed with almost childish joy. “It is not strange—in you, perhaps. Now listen once again, and pray you, answer me.”
“I am listening,” said Masago, with sullen impatience. “I will also answer, princess.”
“Call me sister. Name me Sado-ko, I beg.”
“I will call you princess.”
“Perhaps you will not do so, Masago, when I have completed. But hear me. You love your home, of course, and also your good parents?”
“It is said I am of an honorably dutiful and filial temperament,” replied Masago, coldly.
“But,” continued Sado-ko, “there are other things you love still more than your dear home? It is possible?”
“It is so,” replied Masago, briefly. “Do not look surprised, O princess. Homes are not all palaces, nor yet are parents all royal.”
“Masago,” said the princess gently, “a palace never makes a home, nor royalty a parent. Your home,” she looked about her with approving eyes,—“it is most sweet and choice, Masago.”