The older one. Her heart---or what served as such--went straight out to him; and from her worldly point of view, in which inclination and interest seemed in unaccustomed fashion to mingle, she decided, as rustic Miné had done before her, that he, and he only, should be her master. The handsome stalwart fellow, bronzed and weather-worn, his brow crossed by a deep and honourable cicatrice! A typical soldier he, whom 'twould be a joy to love. The other one? Well, handsome too, but ill-tempered evidently; as rich in scowls as a tiger in stripes; a wild beast, whose taming might amuse. And yet toying with wild beasts is dangerous, for when they scratch they tear. Brothers apparently. The wife of which was the patrician lady? For a second the world-worn geisha felt the prick of a curious and new sensation. Could it be jealousy? If she were the wife of the soldier, she was a rival whom it would be necessary to fight and crush. Cold--almost inanimate; a doll--stupid probably--entirely wrapped, like so many of her station, in contemplation of the family tree. Pooh! an absurd rival; for sure no man could love an icicle. Were they newly married? This bridegroom with the scar was delectably attentive to his bride. How mawkish! And then the observant little woman noticed that the scowls of the younger brother were specially turned upon the icicle. Why was that? There was an air about him of discontented proprietorship. Suddenly she became aware of the richness of his attire as he took his place in the centre, amid the bows and genuflections of the spectators. So the younger of the twain was the Daimio, and the icicle his wife. What a pity that it was not the elder. It was with a twinge of genuine regret that the geisha turned from the bronzed hero to examine the chief of the clan. A forbidding savage! Clearly he did not love the icicle. He was fancy free. Inclination and interest as usual did not mingle. Heigho! must we always throw over romance for the better filling of our pockets? An unsatisfactory world, in sooth, where things have such a provoking way of clashing. A good-looking aristocratic person this head of the clan, if cross. "I did well to drop my foolish prayers; this is the moment for business," she inly murmured. "I shall have first to ensnare the chief, and his stalwart brother after." Her line of action thus promptly and practically decided, the young woman prepared her batteries.