“Sir,” she said, smiling in turn from Sode-ko to Kinnosuke, “I love little Kinnosuke very much, and he and Sode-ko have had a quarrel today.” This remark made the father laugh. Sode-ko began to feel embarrassed as she looked at the baby who refused to leave Ohatsu’s side. The little fellow was so fair in complexion that one almost wished he had been a girl. His silken eyebrows, his little parted lips, his short downy hair, and his childish brow were very pretty to see. His somewhat sulky yet innocent expression, as he looked at Sode-ko, made him even prettier to look upon. There was no such sweetness in the lifeless doll that Sode-ko used to adore with such passion.
“After all, Kinnosuke-san is Sode-ko’s doll,” said the father good-naturedly.
Sode-ko’s father was a widower, but somehow he had managed to bring up his children alone, as men who lost their wives in early manhood are often able to do. But he must not laugh at his daughter for treating Kinnosuke like a doll, for after all, wasn’t Sode-ko her father’s doll too? Father had always chosen his daughter’s dolls himself, and had carefully chosen the best one from Maruzen’s stock of German dolls. Just as Sode-ko had made many dresses for her dolls, so had her father chosen the most tasteful kimono for his little girl.
“Sode-ko-san looks wretched in such plain frocks. When are you going to allow her to wear brighter and more becoming clothes?”
This remark would sometimes be made by lady
