Before leaving the house for the day Tetsutaisho ran in to see the child and incidentally make some assurances to Kinsan. She, glad of the opportunity, resigned herself to her task without questioning too closely the purpose or thinking much about the outcome. Here at least was a respite, and anything promising to stay the hand of fate was to her indeed welcome. Therefore, when Nehachibana came in later in the day and found Kinsan cooing over a little red baby, all flounced with silk, a-kicking and a-crying, her face coloured and she began to question its kindly mistress with something of curiosity, if not suspicion.
"Oh, what a pretty baby!" said she, as she crossed the room and squatted on the floor in front. "And where did you get it? It is so cunning. Is it yours? I wish I had a baby like that--so big and bright. But then it wouldn't have eyes like those, I know. Would it? Let me see your eyes, Kinsan--I never could tell a baby's mother."
"I shall not let you have this one, though you don't see its mother in its eyes. It's a good baby, and its name is Sodachinojoi, and no more."
"Oh, what a name! and how? My husband said you are a gardener's daughter."
"And even so, the breeding may be none the less. I hope you will like the baby, and I will do all I can to make him worthy of his name and a joy to us all."
"Why do you not say, 'My baby'? I should, if I had one."
"Then why don't you?" said Kinsan, with much surprise; she still believing that only Nehachibana could be the mother of her husband's child, as her own mother had been of all her father's children.
"Take your charge, you impudent thing! I shall never set foot upon your mat again. No, never!" shrieked Nehachibana, as she pushed the child toward Kinsan and flew from the room.
Kinsan was not greatly disturbed by Nehachibana's demeanour, though the thrust was painful and entirely uncalled for so far as she could see or know. However, she was by this time accustomed to jeers, if not insults, and did not take the words much to heart, and only thought of how agreeable it would be should the other make good her threat and stay away; at least until such time as her understanding prompted a kinder treatment.
Nehachibana in a measure made good her threat, and as Tetsutaisho's mother was devoted more to her own interests than to doubtful infants, and had always regarded Kinsan with suspicion, she, too, took particular pains to keep well out of the way. Tetsutaisho soon came to spending much of his time at army headquarters, at Ikamon's, or at the council chamber. Takara's sorrow for the loss of her child, which she had not been permitted to see since it was taken away from her, though in some degree mitigated--satisfactorily to everybody except Nehachibana--by Tetsutaisho's devotion, during the little time he now spent at home, occupied her attention.