Chukei was not much inclined to discuss his clients’ affairs, but he was tempted by the hope of gaining a new one, and besides, he loved a bit of gossip.
“Yes,” he answered grinning sheepishly, “and a very good proposal it was, too.”
“Indeed,” said Chobei, with neighborly interest. “I had not heard of the wedding.”
“No, and you will not,” replied the matchmaker, a little sourly, for it always angered him to think of the good business he had lost because of O-Mitsu’s refusal. “My proposal was not accepted.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed Kutami; “that is very strange. Who was the man?”
“Yamamoto-san, the silk merchant,” responded the nakodo. “His son is one of the finest young men in the city.”
“Yes, indeed,” said the banker, “I should think any man would be glad to have his daughter make such a fortunate marriage. What did Kudo-san say?”
“That was the greatest surprise,” answered old Chukei. “He said his daughter did not wish to marry.”
“Well, well!” cried the banker. “Who ever heard of a girl refusing to marry when her father wished her too? Things have changed very much in Japan when that can happen.”