But all at once this stillness was broken by a sound of women’s _geta_[4] approaching—_kara-kon, kara-kon;_—and the sound drew nearer and nearer, quickly, till it reached the live-hedge surrounding the garden. Then Shinzaburö, feeling curious, stood on tiptoe, so as to look over the hedge; and he saw two women passing. One, who was carrying a beautiful lantern decorated with peony-flowers,[5] appeared to be a servant;—the other was a slender girl of about seventeen, wearing a long-sleeved robe embroidered with designs of autumn-blossoms. Almost at the same instant both women turned their faces toward Shinzaburō;—and to his utter astonishment, he recognized O-Tsuyu and her servant O-Yoné. [4] _Komageta_ in the original. The geta is a wooden sandal, or clog, of which there are many varieties,—some decidedly elegant. The _komageta_, or “pony-geta” is so-called because of the sonorous hoof-like echo which it makes on hard ground. [5] The sort of lantern here referred to is no longer made; and its shape can best be understood by a glance at the picture accompanying this story. It was totally unlike the modern domestic band-lantern, painted with the owner’s crest; but it was not altogether unlike some forms of lanterns still manufactured for the Festival of the Dead, and called _Bon-dōrō_. The flowers ornamenting it were not painted: they were artificial flowers of crêpe-silk, and were attached to the top of the lantern. [Illustration: The Peony Lantern] They stopped immediately; and the girl cried out,—“Oh, how strange!… Hagiwara Sama!” Shinzaburō simultaneously called to the maid:—“O-Yoné! Ah, you are O-Yoné!—I remember you very well.” “Hagiwara Sama!” exclaimed O-Yoné in a tone of supreme amazement. “Never could I have believed it possible!… Sir, we were told that you had died.” “How extraordinary!” cried Shinzaburō. “Why, I was told that both of you were dead!” “Ah, what a hateful story!” returned O-Yoné. “Why repeat such unlucky words?… Who told you?” “Please to come in,” said Shinzaburō;—“here we can talk better. The garden-gate is open.” So they entered, and exchanged greeting; and when Shinzaburō had made them comfortable, he said:— “I trust that you will pardon my discourtesy in not having called upon you for so long a time. But Shijō, the doctor, about a month ago, told me that you had both died.”