The great central offering, however, was a heap of exquisitely wrought confection representing blue waves, with a pair of Miyako-dori, birds symbolic of conjugal felicity, floating upon the sugared sea. This gift, placed reverently upon a little table to itself, needed no card. Upon the unpainted side of the satin-wood box in which it was fashioned, shone the Imperial insignia, a gold chrysanthemum with sixteen petals. The master, twice during the forenoon, had rolled up to the door in his carriage, gone into his private office, closed the doors tightly, and busied himself with desk-drawers and papers. In a few moments he emerged and drove away without having spoken. On a third visit, he came into the drawing-room, in search of Yuki. She and Gwendolen were at the far end, both looking upward and talking (one in English, one in Japanese) to a bewildered servant on a stepladder, who paused to listen, his face copper-yellow among the loops of smilax. Neither heard Hagané until he was fairly upon them. Yuki gave a start; but Gwendolen brought down level eyes and smiled at him. He spoke first to the guest, holding her hand closely for an instant, and uttering some conventional, though, in this case, sincere expressions of gratitude for her kindness to Yuki. He then asked of Yuki the exact hour at which the reception was to commence. He spoke in English. "Four, your Highness," answered Yuki, in the same tongue. "I shall be in this apartment at four," he said, and then took his departure. The two friends watched through the window as he stepped under the porte cochére and entered the carriage. "Your husband is a king among men, my Yuki." "It does not become a Japanese wife to admit so." "The hair he leaves on his barber's floor tingles with more manliness than the whole body of Pierre Le Beau." "It does not become the one who has made Pierre suffer to say so." "Pshaw! Nonsense! He enjoys his suffering. But of course I might have known you would make some such retort. Do you want me to try to keep him away from you this afternoon, or is it part of your penitence to assist him in insulting you?" "Oh, help keep away, if you can!" gasped Yuki. "Prince Hagané will be standing by me then. I wish most of all for him not to be annoyed." "I wonder whether you realize, small Princess--" Gwendolen began, then suddenly stopped. Her look, as she scrutinized the upturned face, was singular; her tone, more curious still. She closed her lips tightly now, as if to forbid the thought to come, shook her blonde head, and facing back to the window tapped a hollow rhythm on the pane. Yuki's cheeks grew hot. "Some one--some one need me, I think," she murmured, and literally ran from the room. * * * * *