“How extraordinary!” cried Shinzaburō. “Why, I was told that both of you were dead!”
“Ah, what a hateful story!” returned O-Yoné. “Why repeat such unlucky words? … Who told you?”
“Please to come in,” said Shinzaburō;—“here we can talk better. The garden-gate is open.”
So they entered, and exchanged greeting; and when Shinzaburō had made them comfortable, he said:—
“I trust that you will pardon my discourtesy in not having called upon you for so long a time. But Shijō, the doctor, about a month ago, told me that you had both died.”
“So it was he who told you?” exclaimed O-Yoné. “It was very wicked of him to say such a thing. Well, it was also Shijō who told us that you were dead. I think that he wanted to deceive you,—which was not a difficult thing to do, because you are so confiding and trustful. Possibly my mistress betrayed her liking for you in some words which found their way to her father’s ears; and, in that case, O-Kuni—the new wife—might have planned to make the doctor tell you that we were dead, so as to bring
