Now, it was the season of continuous rain (namely, the month of May), and the Court was keeping a strict Monoimi.[23] Genji, who had now been made a Chiujio,[24] and who was still continuing his residence in the Imperial Palace, was also confined to his apartments for a considerable length of time. His father-in-law naturally felt for him, and his sons were sent to bear him company. Among these, Kurand Shioshio, who was now elevated to the post of To-no-Chiujio, proved to be the most intimate and interesting companion. He was married to the fourth daughter of the 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."