Yuki entered with what calmness she could. The two servants already squatted like bright-eyed toads in the doorway. "Here, girl! Read this letter from his Highness, Prince Hagané," said Onda. "Bow, as you receive it into your unworthy hands." The girl bowed obediently. She read the letter through without a flicker of change on her downcast face. Folding it with scrupulous care she returned it, again bowing, to her wondering father. "Well," he cried, "are your wits gone? What have you to say?" "His Highness does our house too much honor," answered Yuki, quietly. Iriya, watching breathlessly, saw what the puzzled Onda did not see, that, in spite of superb self-control, a slow, sick pallor was stealing into the girl's face. Behind Iriya the two servants, drawn closer as by a magnet, vibrated to suppressed excitement. Onda caught the look of their faces. "Suzumé!" he said, "your young mistress has just been asked in marriage by his Augustness, Prince Hagané, daimyo of our clan." "Ma-a-a!" breathed the women in unison, and fell forward on their faces. "You see what _they_ think of it," said Tetsujo, with a half-contemptuous wave of his hand. "Oh, my daughter," cried Iriya, "it is an honor so great that I cannot yet meet the thought of it. You will be like a Princess of the Blood. Our sacred Empress will meet you face to face as a friend." Tetsujo broke in. "You can serve your country, girl! That's the best of it. The opportunity is incredible. It does not need argument. Well, Yuki! Will you write your humble and grateful acceptance in person, or shall I convey it for you?" "I have not accepted yet." Tetsujo bounded in his place. Iriya caught her breath, and stretched forth two pleading hands, one to each. "Do not anger me, girl!" muttered the father, with visible effort to contain himself. "I am in no mood for violence." "Nor I, father, being already spent with much contention," answered Yuki, wearily. "Indeed, I should attempt no speech at all, but that I see his Highness shields me by commands against rough argument, and the condition that I be given full time to decide." "Bah," cried Tetsujo. "Even a god must have some small weaknesses. Pity to women has always been his.--Well, when shall your answer go--to-night, in the morning, on the first rays of the sun? Speak! for my choler trains me hard!" But Yuki did not hasten to reply. Behind her rigid calm a thousand frightened fancies sped. No thought could be followed to a conclusion in this first whirl of atoms. They went by her in a soundless hurricane,--torn bits of hope, filaments of fear, thin flakes of readjustment. She saw that time must be gained--time, and the opportunity to think. An unqualified refusal would bring upon her immediately consequences and new conditions which she was neither physically nor mentally able to combat. She must achieve an armistice.