“is the honorable residence in which I serve.  As you have come thus far out of your way, kind sir, will you not deign to enter and to rest a while?” It[=o] assented.  He was pleased by the informal invitation; and he wished to learn what persons of superior condition had chosen to reside in so lonesome a village.  He knew that sometimes a family of rank would retire in this manner from public life, by reason of government displeasure or political trouble; and he imagined that such might be the history of the occupants of the dwelling before him.  Passing the gate, which his young guide opened for him, he found himself in a large quaint garden.  A miniature landscape, traversed by a winding stream, was faintly distinguishable.  “Deign for one little moment to wait,” the child said; “I go to announce the honorable coming;” and hurried toward the house.  It was a spacious house, but seemed very old, and built in the fashion of another time.  The sliding doors were not closed; but the lighted interior was concealed by a beautiful bamboo curtain extending along the gallery front.  Behind it shadows were moving—­shadows of women;—­and suddenly the music of a koto rippled into the night.  So light and sweet was the playing that It[=o] could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses.  A slumbrous feeling of delight stole over him as he listened,—­a delight strangely mingled with sadness.  He wondered how any woman could have learned to play thus,—­wondered whether the player could be a woman,—­wondered even whether he was hearing earthly music; for enchantment seemed to have entered into his blood with the sound of it.

* * * * *

The soft music ceased; and almost at the same moment It[=o] found the little miya-dzukai beside him.  “Sir,” she said, “it is requested that you will honorably enter.”  She conducted him to the entrance, where he removed his sandals; and an aged woman, whom he thought to be the R[=o]jo, or matron of the household, came to welcome him at the threshold.  The old woman then led him through many apartments to a large and well-lighted room in the rear of the house, and with many respectful salutations requested him to take the place of honor accorded to guests of distinction.  He was surprised by the stateliness of the chamber, and the curious beauty of its decorations.  Presently some maid-servants brought refreshments; and he noticed that the cups and other vessels set before him were of rare and costly workmanship, and ornamented with a design indicating the high rank of the possessor.  More and more he wondered what noble person had chosen this lonely retreat, and what happening could have inspired the wish for such solitude.  But the aged attendant suddenly interrupted his reflections with the question: 

“Am I wrong in supposing that you are It[=o] Sama, of Uji,—­It[=o] Tat[’e]waki Norisuk[’e]?”

It[=o] bowed in assent.  He had not told his name to the little miya-dzukai, and the manner of the inquiry startled him.