en all at once the shadow of his tall figure was
projected on the moonlit floor.

"Who's that?" cried the old woman sharply, and in alarm; but the next
moment, without waiting for any reply, mumbled on: "Ah, ah! 'tis Miss
Mimb, no wonder so tall."

This remark seemed to allude to one of her fellow-servants, who must
have been a stalwart maiden, and the subject of remarks among her
companions. The old woman, quite satisfied in thinking that it was she
who was with Kokimi, added: "You, my young master, will soon be as
tall as she is; I will come out this way, too," and approached the
door. Genji could do nothing but stand silent and motionless. When she
came nearer she said, addressing the supposed Mimb, "Have you been
waiting on the young mistress this evening? I have been ill since the
day before yesterday, and kept myself to my room, but was sent for
this evening because my services were required. I cannot stand it." So
saying, and without waiting for any reply, she passed on, muttering as
she went, "Oh! my pain! my pain!" Genji and the boy now went forth,
and they drove back to the mansion in Nijio. Talking over the events
of the evening, Genji ironically said to his companion, "Ah! you are a
nice boy!" and snapped his fingers with chagrin at the escape of his
favorite and her indifference. Kokimi said nothing. Genji then
murmured, "I was clearly slighted. Oh wretched me! I cannot rival the
happy Iyo!" Shortly after, he retired to rest, taking with him, almost
unconsciously, the scarf he had carried off, and again making Kokimi
share his apartment, for company's sake. He had still some hope that
the latter might be useful to him; and, with the intention of stirring
up his energies, observed, "You are a nice boy; but I am afraid the
coldness shown to me by your sister may at last weaken the friendship
between you and me."

Kokimi still made no reply. Genji closed his eyes but could not
sleep, so he started up and, taking writing materials, began to write,
apparently without any fixed purpose, and indited the following
distich:--

"Where the cicada casts her shell
In the shadows of the tree,
There is one whom I love well,
Though her heart is cold to me."

Casting away the piece of paper on which these words were
written--purposely or not, who knows?--he again leaned his head on his
hand. Kokimi slyly stretching out his hand, picked up the paper from
the floor, and hid it quickly in his dress.