From the governess, Wistaria learned the elegancies of conversation and how to act on meeting great personages at court. She had even been drilled in certain graces which should not fail to enchain her lover, when he, the proper one, should be chosen for her.
Now that she had reached the age of fifteen years, this perfect person had departed from the palace to teach maidens of younger years. The Lady Wistaria had arrived at an age when she could be said to have been graduated from her governess’s hands as competent to pass the rest of her life without further instruction, save that constant restraint exercised over her by her aunt, the Lady Evening Glory of Catzu.
II
HE education of a Japanese maid is not alone a matter of cultivating the mind; it is an actual moulding of her whole character. The average girl under such discipline succumbs to the hereditary instinct of implicit obedience to her dictators, and becomes like unto their conception of what she should be. But the Lady Wistaria was not an average girl. That is the reason her appearance at the court of the Shogun in Yedo created a furore. Her fresh, young beauty, her grace and bewitching charm, were a revelation to the jaded court.
The Lady Evening Glory, who had spent years of thought and preparation for this event, had warned her repeatedly that upon such an auspicious occasion she was to tread across the vast hall with downcast eyes and an attitude of graceful humility. She was on no account to look about her. While all eyes might gaze upon her, she must see no one. And this is how the Lady Wistaria carried out her instructions.
When first she began the slow parade towards the Shogun’s throne, my lady’s head was drooped in the correct pose, with her eyes modestly downcast. She had proceeded but a few paces, however, when she was thrilled by the intuition that the spectacle was worthy of any sacrifice necessary to see it. Her small head began to erect itself. Her eyes, wide open, with one great sweep viewed the splendor of the picture—the graceful courtiers, the lovely women in their costumes of the sun. A sharp pinch upon the arm brought her back to the exacting presence of the Lady Evening Glory beside her. Down drooped her head again. Gradually the eyelids fluttered. My lady peeped!
There was a low murmur throughout the hall. The waving of fans ceased a space. The Lady Evening Glory recognized the significance of that murmur, and then the hush that ensued. A tremendous fluttering pride arose in her bosom. Her experience of many years assured her that her niece’s beauty was compelling its splendid tribute.