Admitted, the priest followed the maiden to the upper floor, where, surrounded by books and embroidery, and choice blossoms and graceful nicknacks, sat, in a soft mellow light, she for whom the peasants sorrowed. Since last we looked on her, she was much changed--improved--for there was something celestial now---refined and dreamy, as if reflected from some other world--about her loveliness. Her manner had that still, self-contained, dignity which is only to be acquired through much trouble. With grieved concern in her dark eyes, she hearkened to the messenger. Masago on the verge of death! Was she, O'Tei, to be left friendless? Of course she would go to her at once. Ah, if she might change places with the holy Abbess, and depart out of a sphere where no one wanted her! But it is always those who have no wish to stay who are kept loitering here. Was Masago so ill, and she not told of it? This was wrong, for at any hour of the day or night she would have gladly sought her friend. Not a moment was to be lost. Quick, quick! Her litter. Her bearers, where were they? Wandering in the town, possibly, chattering in some tea-house, their daily duty over. "There is a litter below," suggested the priest timidly. "The one that in old times my lady used to use. Its bearers are standing ready with lanterns lit. Perhaps my lady O'Kikú--" A look of unusual sternness passed over the features of O'Tei, and a shadow veiled her eyes. "O'Kikú!" she muttered, "O'Kikú! My state litter is ready, you say? Then I will use it; come!" And to the amazement of the maidens, the chatelaine took from a screen a mantle of costly furs, and bidding her attendants follow with a candle, moved rapidly away down a dark corridor which led to the centre of the castle. The geisha was so astonished at the apparition which suddenly presented itself before her that the saké-cup dropped from her fingers. She turned red and white, and tried, with but poor success, to laugh off her confusion. With heaving breast and dark brows knit, O'Tei looked down on her with disdain ineffable. "You have ordered my kago. Thank you," she said shortly, "for I want it. Tell the bearers I am ready; and you, priest, proceed before. I go but to the temple, so shall not want the soldiers." With that she moved with stately step to where, in a stream of light, the kago stood.