"I am not jealous," said she to herself, time and time again. "It is only Nehachibana. I do not know such a thing; only other women are jealous. I wonder why? Nor do I envy anybody. I only wish Shibusawa were like Tetsutaisho. How I would love him--love him, oh, love him!"
Often her feelings ran on and on until she fancied her own husband the hero of her life. No taint had ever entered her heart. She believed him the master of her destiny and the fulfilment of her fortunes. Then Tetsutaisho came again, toward the latter part of September, and she was not displeased with his courtesies. He had come at the instance of Ikamon to talk over the matter of the shogun's successor--that Iyeyoshi was now ill and there seemed to be no hope of his recovery--but, presently he came, there arrived a message for Maido to appear forthwith at a council meeting (prefacing the expected), at which the grief-stricken daimyo hurried away, leaving the young and careless general there to entertain the ladies or idle away his time at will.
It was a quiet afternoon and Tetsutaisho and Takara wandered off beneath the falling leaves to a sheltered place on the lawn. Takara was lonely. She had had no friendships since Tetsutaisho's last visit except only Maido's, her father-in-law. To him she was already beginning to be a comfort, and in a measure to take the place of his lost daughter. But it was an old man's friendship; and when the younger gallant left her that evening she may have bidden him welcome to return.
So far as Tetsutaisho was concerned he had called at the daimyo's castle only by accident, though there was much anxiety and probably no one's fortune more at stake. Iyeyoshi had grown old and inert amidst strained conditions, and appreciated more fully than could Iyesada, his youthful successor, the necessity of advancing the bold, heedless young general. Nor was Tetsutaisho free from the danger of rival aspirants; yet there was no war at hand, and he knew of no better business than pleasing Ikamon and paying respect to the ladies at court.
Here he need not concern himself with rivalry, for the one guided with a jealous eye his rising place and the other enjoyed without interruption his pleasing address. He came and went at will, and had he not sooner possessed an unknown love he might have quicker formed an attachment. Takara responded naturally to the voice of inevitable will, but a yearning heart unconsciously bade him seek Kinsan.