Udaijin, but being a man of lively disposition,
he, too, like Genji, did not often resort to the mansion of the bride.
When Genji went to the Sadaijin's he was always his favorite
associate; they were together in their studies and in their sports,
and accompanied each other everywhere. And so all stiffness and
formality were dispensed with, and they did not scruple to reveal
their secrets to each other.

It was on an evening in the above-mentioned season. Rain was falling
drearily. The inhabitants of the Palace had almost all retired, and
the apartment of Genji was more than usually still. He was engaged in
reading near a lamp, but at length mechanically put his book aside,
and began to take out some letters and writings from a bureau which
stood on one side of the room. To-no-Chiujio happened to be present,
and Genji soon gathered from his countenance that he was anxious to
look over them.

"Yes," said Genji; "some you may see, but there may be others!"

"Those others," retorted To-no-Chiujio, "are precisely those which I
wish to see; ordinary ones, even your humble servant may have
received. I only long to look upon those which may have been written
by fair hands, when the tender writer had something to complain of, or
when in twilight hour she was outpouring all her yearning!"

Being so pressed, Genji allowed his brother-in-law to see them all. It
is, however, highly probable that any very sacred letters would not
have been loosely deposited in an ordinary bureau; and these would
therefore seem, after all, to have been of second-rate importance.

"What a variety," said To-no-Chiujio, as he turned them over, and he
asked several questions guessingly about this or that. About some he
guessed correctly, about others he was puzzled and suspicious.[25]
Genji smiled and spoke little, only making some obscure remark, and
continuing as he took the letters: "but _you_, surely, must have
collected many. Will not you show me some? And then my bureau also may
open more easily."

"You do not suppose that I have any worth reading, do you?" replied
To-no-Chiujio. "I have only just now discovered," continued he, "how
difficult it is to meet with a fair creature, of whom one can say,
'This is, indeed, _the_ one; here is, at last, perfection.' There are,
indeed, many who fascinate; many who are ready with their pens, and
who, when occasion may require, are quick at repartee. But how often
such girls as these are conceited about