'In those days, it must be remembered, the moral discipline of the Samurai was very rigid. The conduct of our young Samurai involved not only the ruin of himself but also the destruction of the family as a Samurai, a matter most lamentable to the house of a knight. At last Z., the despairing wife, takes the matter very seriously to heart, not so much from jealousy as from a sense of duty to her house and a desire to save her lord and husband from disgrace. She forms a bold plan, and personally visits her rival to obtain her confidence. She persuades her, not by any vulgar quarrel, but by serious reasoning and rational appeal, to put a stop to all connection with her husband. The rival assents and gives her promise. Then comes the climax. After a great struggle between love and reason, and hampered by several circumstances which made her unable to fulfil her promise, the rival puts an end to her own life, committing jigai, which is equivalent to Seppuku--vulgarly called Harakiri--in the case of a man, leaving some touching and well-meant letters behind her. What became of the young Samurai and his wife after that I scarcely need to relate here. Such, then, is the kind of plot we find in that class of books.' While discoursing in this strain, a young lady--an English maiden--joined us. --'Your plot seems not altogether like ours,' said the English lady. 'I dare say you have read some of our everyday novels?' --'Well, I have read some, but it is now so many years ago that I do not remember them, with one exception, and that is _Jane Eyre_. Years ago I read some chapters of it, and those are enough. The general contents of those chapters remained ever in my memory. A little time ago I was staying at Folkestone. One gloomy afternoon, when I was intent over many things, that memory recurred to me all of a sudden. I went to a bookseller and bought a copy of the book: I read through once more some of the earlier chapters, and it created a great impression on me.' --'What caused that impression, I should like to know?' interposed Lady Modestina. --'Well, I cannot explain the reason very well,' I answered.