To Etsuko, who before her marriage had been a well-bred girl with little conscious charm, marriage had not brought the same cares as to Tomo, and even in middle age she still preserved the purity of outlook, free of unsuspected depths, of a girl brought up in sheltered surroundings. There were times when this seemed to Tomo a sign of a happiness granted in recompense for her own misfortunes, but there were other times when, grumbling to Etsuko about domestic matters involving Yukitomo and Suga, she felt discouraged by the lack of complexity and sensitive appreciation of her own feelings in her daughter’s response. Generally speaking, Tomo had never felt a desire to shift the burden from her own shoulders to Etsuko’s, but today was an exception and she awaited Etsuko’s arrival with eagerness.

As they came into the room where Yukitomo sat leaning against his back-rest – Etsuko in her black crepe kimono decorated with the family crest and tied with a splendid sash embroidered with a design of bamboo and sparrows on a reddish-brown ground, leading by the hand Kuniko in a gay long-sleeved kimono of printed silk crepe – Tomo’s heart gave such a leap of gladness that it startled even herself.

‘Well, here they are!’ said Yukitomo. ‘A happy New Year to you! And how old would Kuniko be now? When you’ve got too many grandchildren you can’t remember all their ages!’ He chuckled. ‘I’m getting terribly old. This year may easily see me saying farewell to this world … Where’s Shinohara? Not with you? And here I’d got the go board all ready … A New Year’s meeting of the Lawyers’ Association? I see. If he’s president he can hardly miss it, can he?’

To watch Etsuko’s face, so like his as she sat demurely before him holding her head high on her long swan-like neck, seemed to give Yukitomo pleasure and he talked a lot, almost as though trying consciously to please her. Wishing to humor their aging master, Suga and the maids too took turns in praising Etsuko’s hairstyle and the pattern of Kuniko’s kimono.

That afternoon, when Kuniko had gone out to play shuttlecock and battledore with the maids and her contemporary Namiko, who had been invited over from Tsunamachi, Tomo said to Etsuko:

‘There was such a good view of Mt. Fuji from upstairs yesterday. Come and have a look,’ and she led her as casually as possible upstairs to the front of the second floor.

From the veranda Mt. Fuji was visible, pale blue in the west, but Etsuko gave it no more than a brief glance before saying:

‘Mother, is there something you want to talk about?’ She seated herself on the tatami near the veranda. She knew after so many years that it was her mother’s habit to take her aside without seeming to make a point of it whenever she had something private to say.

‘You know, I don’t think I’m very well.’