But what she had foretold came true;--for time dries all tears and quiets all longing; and even in Japan one does not really try to die twice for the same despair. The lover of Kimiko became wiser; and there was found for him a very sweet person for wife, who gave him a son. And other years passed; and there was happiness in the fairy-home where Kimiko had once been. There came to that home one morning, as if seeking alms, a traveling nun; and the child, hearing her Buddhist cry of "Ha--ï! ha--ï!" ran to the gate. And presently a house-servant, bringing out the customary gift of rice, wondered to see the nun caressing the child, and whispering to him. Then the little one cried to the servant, "Let me give!"--and the nun pleaded from under the veiling shadow of her great straw hat: "Honorably allow the child to give me." So the boy put the rice into the mendicant's bowl. Then she thanked him, and asked: "Now will you say again for me the little word which I prayed you to tell your honored father?" And the child lisped: "_Father, one whom you will never see again in this world, says that her heart is glad because she has seen your son._" The nun laughed softly, and caressed him again, and passed away swiftly; and the servant wondered more than ever, while the child ran to tell his father the words of the mendicant. But the father's eyes dimmed as he heard the words, and he wept over his boy. For he, and only he, knew who had been at the gate--and the sacrificial meaning of all that had been hidden. Now he thinks much, but tells his thought to no one. He knows that the space between sun and sun is less than the space between himself and the woman who loved him. He knows it were vain to ask in what remote city, in what fantastic riddle of narrow nameless streets, in what obscure little temple known only to the poorest poor, she waits for the darkness before the Dawn of the Immeasurable Light--when the Face of the Teacher will smile upon her--when the Voice of the Teacher will say to her, in tones of sweetness deeper than ever came from human lover's lips: "_O my daughter in the Law, thou hast practiced the perfect way; thou hast believed and understood the highest truth;--therefore come I now to meet and to welcome thee!_" THE NUN OF THE TEMPLE OF AMIDA I When O-Toyo's husband--a distant cousin, adopted into her family for love's sake--had been summoned by his lord to the capital, she did not feel anxious about the future. She felt sad only. It was the first time since their bridal that they had ever been separated. But she had her father and mother to keep her company, and, dearer than either,--though she would never have confessed it even to herself,--her little son. Besides, she always had plenty to do. There were many household duties to perform, and there was much clothing to be woven--both silk and cotton.