“The humblest one is altogether too insignificant and small to become the wife of so exalted a personage.”
The words pleased Matsuda. Plainly this girl would make a most excellent and humble wife. He bent graciously and touched her head, patting it. She slipped under his hand to her knees, and then to a sitting position. But her head was still bent far over, and if the suitor could have seen that dimpling face, its expression would have perplexed him.
He seated himself opposite to her.
“The marriage,” he said, “can be speedily arranged. I do not like delays in any of my affairs.”
Madame Yamada interposed, desperately:
“Time will be needed to make her marriage garments, to call together her august relatives, for maidenly meditation, and for preparation for the marriage feast.”
“We can dispense with all these things,” said Matsuda suavely.
“Too early a marriage would be unseemly,” said Madame Yamada.
“Madame Yamada exaggerates public opinion,” was Matsuda’s response.
The woman’s voice was barely controlled in its harshness.