"Hai! Hai! Kashikomarimasu" (Yes, yes! I hear and respectfully obey), murmured Suzumè's voice. Her shadow bobbed once, twice, to the matting, and vanished.
Yuki gripped the tree hard. A messenger from Prince Haganè! and that deep, triumphant note in her father's voice! What could it mean?
The shadow of Iriya was now reading the note. A cry came. "O my husband! It is too wonderful—too splendid. It will solve all difficulties. I must not believe—"
On the cowering girl white snowflakes, her namesakes, fell now quickly, dotting her dark hair. One, falling on a cheek as white, melted slowly, and pretended that it was a tear.
"Call the girl!" said Tetsujo. Iriya rose in haste. Yuki sped back along the narrow veranda to her own room. "And summon the two serving-women also!" came Tetsujo's voice, on a higher note.
Yuki entered with what calmness she could. The two servants already squatted like bright-eyed toads in the doorway.
"Here, girl! Read this letter from his Highness, Prince Haganè," said Onda. "Bow, as you receive it into your unworthy hands."
The girl bowed obediently. She read the letter through without a flicker of change on her downcast face. Folding it with scrupulous care she returned it, again bowing, to her wondering father.
"Well," he cried, "are your wits gone? What have you to say?"
"His Highness does our house too much honor," answered Yuki, quietly.