"The thoughts of his Majesty may be even as your own," said the Miobu. "Often when he alluded to his overpowering affection for her, he said that perhaps all this might have been because their love was destined not to last long. And that though he ever strove not to injure any subject, yet for Kiri-Tsubo, and for her alone, he had sometimes caused the ill-will of others; that when all this has been done, she was no more! All this he told me in deep gloom, and added that it made him ponder on their previous existence." The night was now far advanced, and again the Miobu rose to take leave. The moon was sailing down westward and the cool breeze was waving the herbage to and fro, in which numerous _mushi_ were plaintively singing.[12] The messenger, being still somehow unready to start, hummed-- "Fain would one weep the whole night long, As weeps the Sudu-Mushi's song, Who chants her melancholy lay, Till night and darkness pass away." As she still lingered, the lady took up the refrain-- "To the heath where the Sudu-Mushi sings, From beyond the clouds[13] one comes from on high And more dews on the grass around she flings, And adds her own, to the night wind's sigh." A Court dress and a set of beautiful ornamental hairpins, which had belonged to Kiri-Tsubo, were presented to the Miobu by her hostess, who thought that these things, which her daughter had left to be available on such occasions, would be a more suitable gift, under present circumstances, than any other. On the return of the Miobu she found that the Emperor had not yet retired to rest. He was really awaiting her return, but was apparently engaged in admiring the Tsubo-Senzai--or stands of flowers--which were placed in front of the palaces, and in which the flowers were in full bloom. With him were four or five ladies, his intimate friends, with whom he was conversing. In these days his favorite topic of conversation was the "Long Regret."[14] Nothing pleased him more than to gaze upon the picture of that poem, which had been painted by Prince Teishi-In, or to talk about the native poems on the same subject, which had been composed, at the Royal command, by Ise, the poetess, and by Tsurayuki, the poet. And it was in this way that he was engaged on this particular evening. To him the Miobu now went immediately, and she faithfully reported to him all that she had seen, and she gave to him also the answer to his letter. That letter stated that the mother of Kiri-Tsubo felt honored by his gracious inquiries, and that she was so truly grateful that she scarcely knew how to express herself. She proceeded to say that his condescension made her feel at liberty to offer to him the following:-- "Since now no fostering love is found, And the Hagi tree is dead and sere, The motherless deer lies on the ground, Helpless and weak, no shelter near."