"MY DEAR GWENDOLEN, who has been my only sister,--Your telegram having arrived, and Prince Hagané having come to me in person to speak of my duties and the opportunity he could give me at once in this time of trouble and war, I have myself willingly consented to be his wife. I am forced by nobody. You do not think badly of me for this, but some other will think very badly. Oh, please to speak kind and soothing things to that other. His grief is my aching always sorrow. I care not at all for my own, but I care very much for his. He will think me wicked and unfaithful to have broke so solemn pledge, but at the time of breaking I did not seem to myself wicked. We do not know how things sometimes have happened. But this has now happened to me. Ask him to forgive me. The marriage is to be held very soon; in fact, on Wednesday of the coming week. According to Japanese custom I must now be very secluded until that ceremony, not even seeing my sister, which is you. I believe Prince Hagané is to take me after to Kamakura. I do not care where he take me. Oh, Gwendolen, love your Yuki and pray for her to be strong. Always before I have been weak at a crisis. I must not now ever be weak. If pity can be held toward me in Pierre's heart, beseech him to leave Nippon. Your strangely feeling but loving, "YUKI." He let the sheet flutter sidewise to the floor, his eyes absently following. When it was quite still, the address being uppermost, he leaned nearer. "Miss Gwendolen Todd, American Legation, Azabu, Tokio," he read, his lips moving as he formed the words. "Miss Gwendolen Todd," he began, directly, reading again and again. A hand fell gently on his shoulder. "Is there to be an answer, Pierre?" Pierre shook his head. "You will retain the enclosed letter?" Pierre nodded. The count went tip-toeing to the door, and returned to Tsuna the pretentious chit-book. Pierre was apparently fixed in an attitude of melancholy. "Can these letters have told you anything worse?" questioned the gentle voice. "Yes," said Pierre, dully. "It is worse. She is to be married next Wednesday,--and with her own consent. She wishes it. Next Wednesday." Ronsard did not answer. He was trying to look sad.