“How?”
“Bring this young prince hither. Leave him to me!”
“To you!”
She went very close to her father and raised her face upward so that he might see it perfectly.
“Look upon me, honorable parent. Am I not fair? Bring hither this son of an evil prince, and in twenty-four hours he will be ready to wed an Eta maiden.”
“An Eta maiden!” suddenly shrieked her aunt. “Who? Not—” She made an indescribable gesture towards the girl.
“I,” said Wistaria, throwing back her head—“I am an Eta maiden, my lady.” She bowed very low, then moved towards the door. Before passing out she turned.
“I go,” she said, “to garb myself in the dress of an Eta maiden. But do not believe, my lady aunt, that I shall have lost that beauty with which the gods have blessed me, and with which I shall win and wed this Mori prince to the disaster of his household and the triumph of my father’s.”
With that she was gone from the room. They heard her light feet flying up to her chamber above.
“It will crush—bend—kill the father!” muttered the samurai, softly. “It is well!”