It was shortly after hearing this explanation that Konno took to calling Suga ‘Mrs. Shirakawa’ and referring to her before others as ‘the young mistress.’

The first time he used it casually to her Suga seemed startled. Opening her eyes wide, she parted her lips as though about to correct him, but in the end she swallowed hard and let it pass. Even so, the joy that had flickered like lightning across her tense features had not escaped Konno.

‘Mr. Konno, the master says he doesn’t like to see your blue cotton kimono, it’s so faded. So I bought this roll of dyed cotton. I’ll have Yoshi make it up – why don’t you wear it instead?’

As she showed him the material her voice sounded dispirited, for all the world as though she were acting unwillingly at Yukitomo’s command. In fact, it was she who had put the idea into Yukitomo’s mind.

‘Mr. Konno’s always taking Master Takao out, but he looks disgraceful, I think, in that dyed cotton kimono all out at the elbows. And it isn’t as if one can keep complaining at someone who’s only a houseboy, is it?’ she had said casually with a frown, and Yukitomo had reprimanded her:

‘What are you thinking of, woman? Why don’t you do what you think fit to make sure he looks all right? He’s a member of the household, isn’t he? You ought to think more of our reputation.’

Though Konno might call her ‘the mistress,’ it did not mean that the maids and tradespeople would also change their way of referring to her. She knew too that if they should do so she herself would be obliged to correct them.

Nevertheless, the words ‘the mistress’ as spoken by Konno titillated her ears with an indescribable pleasure.

However she might be cherished in private, Suga could never be really free and open, never feel the bright sun’s rays upon her so long as she lived under the same roof as Yukitomo’s legal wife. She must lurk forever in the background behind Tomo, waiting with watchful eyes and neck craned greedily forward.

Not even Yukitomo, much less Tomo, had any idea of the hopeless frustration and impotence that she felt. And since it was so, Konno’s ill-considered words of flattery wormed their way insidiously into her heart.

Once Suga began to show herself favorably disposed, Konno began to whisper unconcealed slander of Tomo in her ear.

The more heated Konno became in attacking Tomo, the more Suga retreated into her defense. The more she defended her, the more she enjoyed the picture of herself as a decent woman so unlike the usual run of mistresses; but she failed to notice how, as they pulled first one way then the other like the two sides in a tug-o’-war, the distance between herself and Konno grew steadily narrower.