say, her hidden scars. Her apartments in the palace were
Kiri-Tsubo (the chamber of Kiri); so called from the trees that were
planted around. In visiting her there the Emperor had to pass before
several other chambers, whose occupants universally chafed when they
saw it. And again, when it was her turn to attend upon the Emperor, it
often happened that they played off mischievous pranks upon her, at
different points in the corridor, which leads to the Imperial
quarters. Sometimes they would soil the skirts of her attendants,
sometimes they would shut against her the door of the covered portico,
where no other passage existed; and thus, in every possible way, they
one and all combined to annoy her.

The Emperor at length became aware of this, and gave her, for her
special chamber, another apartment, which was in the Koro-Den, and
which was quite close to those in which he himself resided. It had
been originally occupied by another lady who was now removed, and thus
fresh resentment was aroused.

When the young Prince was three years old the Hakamagi[7] took place.
It was celebrated with a pomp scarcely inferior to that which adorned
the investiture of the first Prince. In fact, all available treasures
were exhausted on the occasion. And again the public manifested its
disapprobation. In the summer of the same year the Kiri-Tsubo-Koyi
became ill, and wished to retire from the palace. The Emperor,
however, who was accustomed to see her indisposed, strove to induce
her to remain. But her illness increased day by day; and she had
drooped and pined away until she was now but a shadow of her former
self. She made scarcely any response to the affectionate words and
expressions of tenderness which her Royal lover caressingly bestowed
upon her. Her eyes were half-closed: she lay like a fading flower in
the last stage of exhaustion, and she became so much enfeebled that
her mother appeared before the Emperor and entreated with tears that
she might be allowed to leave. Distracted by his vain endeavors to
devise means to aid her, the Emperor at length ordered a Te-gruma[8]
to be in readiness to convey her to her own home, but even then he
went to her apartment and cried despairingly: "Did not we vow that we
would neither of us be either before or after the other even in
travelling the last long journey of life? And can you find it in your
heart to leave me now?" Sadly and tenderly looking up, she thus
replied, with almost failing