The Lady O'Tei, as proud as any of them, though they wist it not, marked their growing insolence, and stored their insults in her embittered heart; and more than ever loathed her lord, on account of her false position, as well as his new favourite. From the moment of the latter's advent O'Tei abandoned for ever any idea of attempting to exert influence over him. On that last occasion when she bowed her pride and humbled herself to the very dust before No-Kami, the attempt was crowned with disaster. It was decreed that she must live, must breathe the same air as he. What must be must; but she would look on him in future as little as she might. That he should choose to take a second wife, the first or legitimate one proving barren, was not surprising. The latter had neither right nor desire to object; but it was clearly his duty to see that the introduction of the second spouse brought no slight upon the first. Instead of demanding her rights, and boldly grappling at once with a situation that was ominous of evil, and so defining the geisha's place without more ado, O'Tei made another mistake. Haughtily she withdrew within herself and brooded over her wrongs, leaving to the intruder a clear field, of which she was not slow to take advantage. Having achieved the position for which she had so cleverly angled, O'Kikú threw down the mask, shook off her bashful ways. Wherever my lord could go, the damsel argued, so could she, for was she not young and active? By his side in the chase she rode, untiring. When he reviewed his men within the outer moat, she stood beside him, and with amusing sharpness rated them all soundly for their awkwardness. Accustomed to a disdainful mistress who interested herself not at all in their doings, the warriors were surprised and enchanted. She would even condescend to come down sometimes, looking so fresh and bright and cheery, into the outer hall, where the soldiery lounged, yawning, and administer reviving draughts. The throat of the soldier, she would laughingly observe, is curiously parched, always yearning for saké,--quite a serious disease, and catching too; one which was common in the army. And then she would familiarly take their swords from them--the swords which are the souls of the samurai--and closely examining the blades, demand the genealogy of each. No-Kami was flattered when he observed what a favourite his choice was becoming with high and low alike. The men, one and all, adored her, some of them declaring that she was a sunbeam detached miraculously from the orb of life to illumine the darkness of their fortress.