“What does he want?” her companion demanded, with such unexpected harshness that the girl broke into a silvery peal of laughter.
“The gods alone know. We shall see. Ah, but he is welcome!”
Aoi met them at the door. Her poor, little, anxious face hurt the girl more than if she had heaped her with reproaches. With an unwonted tenderness she threw her arms about the mother’s neck and pressed her face against hers, whispering over and over again.
“How I love you! It is so good to see you again.”
“Yoshida is within,” said Aoi, when the girl had released her. “He comes alone.”
“What!” she cried, in mock surprise. “The brave Yoshida ventures out alone? Well, and what does he want?”
“Nay, he would not tell me. He will speak only to you, little one.”
“Very well. Let him speak,” and she pushed the doors gayly aside and entered the oxashishi. She was not aware that Koma had entered also until, following the glance of Yoshida, she perceived Koma behind her. Then her voice rippled merrily, and she spoke affectionately to Yamashiro Yoshida.
“Why, Yamashiro Yoshida, what brings you here? I had not dreamed of the blessings the gods had in store for me. I am so affected by the light of your presence that I am rendered speechless,” which last was quite untrue, as both the young men could have attested.
Yoshida bowed himself to the ground; and now, oblivious of the presence of the intruder, Koma, replied: