he finished his rice in
maddening tranquillity, and then stirred slightly as if to go. Mata's
speech flowed forth in a torrent.

"My poor master has no son indeed, no true son of his house; but
lately,--within this very week----" She caught herself back as with a
rein, snatched up the empty tea-pot, hurried to the kitchen and returned
partly self-conquered, if not content. She told herself that she must
not gossip about the master's affairs with a beggarly priest.
Determination hardened the wrinkles of her face.

If the priest perceived these new signs of taciturnity, he ignored them.
"Your master being verily the great artist that you say, it is a thing
doubly to be regretted that he is without an heir," persisted the
visitor, with kind, boyish eyes upon old Mata's face. The old woman
blinked nervously and began to examine her fingernails. "Alas!" sighed
he, "I fear it is because this Mr. Kano is no true believer, that he has
not prayed or made offerings to the gods."

Mata had a momentary convulsion upon the kitchen floor, and was still.

The priest kept gravity upon his mouth, but needed lowered lids to hide
the twinkles in his eyes. "True religion is the greatest boon," he
droned sententiously. "Would that your poor master had reached
enlightenment!"

Ume-ko in her room forgot her sewing, and leaned a delicate ear closer to
the shoji.

Old Mata's wall of reserve went down with a crash. "He believes as you
believe!" she cried out shrilly. "All your Shingon chants and
invocations and miracles he has faith in. Is that not what you call
enlightenment? He and Miss Ume worship together almost daily at the
great temple above us on the hill. The two finest stone lanterns there
are given in the name of my master's dead young wife. Her ihai is in
this house, and an altar, and they are well tended, I assure you! My
master is a true believer, poor man, and what has his belief brought him?
Ma-a-a! all this mummery and service and what has come of it?"

"I perceive with regret that you are not of the Shingon sect," remarked
the priest.

"Me? I should say not!" snorted Mata. "I am a Protestant, a good
Shinshu woman,--that's what I am, and I tell you so to your face! When I
pray, I know what I am praying for. I trust to my own good deeds and the
intercession of Amida Butsu. No muttering and mummery for me!"

"Ah!" said the priest, a most alluring note of interest now audible in
his voice, "your master