"Yes. It was kind of you to remember. I forgot that also."

"Don't be silly. I have a whole garden full of hollyhocks!"

She reached up and fastened the white blossoms and green leaves to his court hat while he bent his head. Tamako was tall for a woman, and her face, intent on the task of arranging the blooms, was close to his. Akitada's eyes were on her lips, very pretty lips, slightly open so that he could just see a tip of her tongue between the white teeth. A subtle fragrance escaped from her sleeves and Akitada closed his eyes. A fierce wave of despair seized him and he stepped back abruptly.

"Oh," she breathed, her eyes flying to his.

He bent and caught up a cluster of pale pink blossoms. Uncertainly he looked at her hair, gleaming bluish-black in the sun and caught on her back with a broad white silk bow. "Where should I . . . ?"

"I think in my sash. The hat would crush them in my hair. Here, I can do it." She took the hollyhocks from his nerveless fingers and tucked them in her sash. Putting on the hat and tying it, she arranged the veil and said, "All ready."

They walked most of the way without saying much. Tamako commented on the delightful weather, and Akitada agreed that it was so. He really wanted to ask her why she could not marry him. All night he had lain awake wondering. Was there another man, perhaps? It was the most likely explanation. At the thought he felt his stomach twist with helpless anger. He had been a fool not to ask her himself months ago. But would not her father have known of another attachment? Perhaps he was too poor? Too tall and gangly? Too ugly with his heavy, beetling brows and his long face? He walked beside her in silent misery.

Two blocks later he pointed out the antics of some children and Tamako remarked that it was a very happy time for the youngsters. The thought threw them into an even deeper depression until the passing of an elegant carriage caused both of them to speak at the same moment, to apologize, and to fall silent again. The invisible barrier between them made their time together extremely distressing to Akitada. When they finally arrived at the viewing stand, he felt more relief that their walk was over than worry about his mother's reception of Tamako.

Lady Sugawara and his sisters had been watching their approach. Akitada made the introductions, and Tamako stepped forward to bow deeply before his mother. She said, "This humble person is quite unable to express her feelings at your ladyship's goodness."

"Not at all. Not at all. Welcome, child!" Lady Sugawara's voice was warm, and she smiled in the kindest manner. "I see," she said, "my boorish son has neglected to provide you with a sedan chair. I apologize for him. Please come and sit with us!" She patted a cushion which had been placed between herself and her daughters.

Tamako thanked her and bowed again before greeting Akitada's sisters and taking her place beside them.

Having seen her installed, Akitada cast an imploring glance at his mother, who looked back blandly. He made his excuses, claiming that he had to meet friends, and escaped. It was a cowardly act, but he consoled himself that his mother would have resented his presence as a sign of distrust.

Miserably he wandered along First Avenue towards the gate through which the procession would leave the city on its way to the shrines on the banks of the Kamo River. Neither he nor his family intended to follow it the whole way.

The viewing stands stretched along the entire length of the parade route and were already well filled with onlookers. Above some flew banners with the crests of the ruling families of the realm. Between the stands or behind them, elegant painted and gilded carriages of the nobility had been placed side by side, the oxen unhitched and the shafts propped up on supports. From beneath the woven shades the scented and many-colored sleeves of court ladies protruded. Passing dandies guessed at the occupants and made flattering comments on the color combinations in hopes of eliciting a giggle or even a wave with a fan.

The crowds thickened near the palaces of the great nobles along the southern side of the street. Here and there the imperial guard was in evidence, mounted on prancing horses, their bows and quivers slung over their shoulders.

Suddenly Akitada saw a familiar face. Young Minamoto was seated on one of the stands. Next to him was a tall man in his thirties. The stand was draped with the Minamoto crests, and Akitada wondered if the tall man might be Lord Sakanoue. On an impulse he crossed the street. He saw that the boy was wearing particularly fine robes, but his face was pale and set. He seemed to look at the spectacle in the street with blank eyes. The man next to him wore a haughty and forbidding expression. The slitted eyes and impassive features seemed to belong to a statue rather than a living, breathing human being.

Then the boy saw Akitada and rose to bow. Turning to his companion, he said, "Allow me to present one of my professors. Doctor Sugawara, my lord."

The impassive eyes flicked Akitada with a glance. The stony head barely nodded.

"This is Lord Sakanoue, my guardian," the boy explained.

Akitada bowed, saying with a smile, "I had hoped to make your acquaintance, my lord, to tell you what a fine student your ward is. Now I am glad to see that you are giving him a day's outing. He deserves it. He has been working very hard."

"It is his duty to work hard," said the other curtly, in a surprisingly high, nasal voice. "It is also his duty to attend official events. As his teacher you should know this."

Akitada found the man's words offensive and therefore did not acknowledge them. Instead he turned to the boy again, saying, "You must be enjoying your visit with your family."

The boy colored. "My sister could not attend," he murmured, "and there is no one else."

"You may continue your conversation some other time," barked the high voice of Sakanoue. "The procession is about to start. It is very unseemly to stand about chatting when people have come to observe."

The dismissal was as rude as it was final. Akitada bowed and withdrew without another word. But he saw the tears of shame in the boy's eyes and blamed himself for having provoked the unpleasant scene with his impulsive action.

He continued his stroll along the stands worrying about the boy, following the rest of the sight-seeing and socializing crowd absentmindedly until the noise in one place caused him to look up. He saw four stands, elaborately decked out with flags, greenery and hollyhocks and filled with a large crowd of boisterous celebrants in silk robes of every shade and pattern. The Fujiwara crest flew gaily in the breeze above all four stands. Akitada scanned the faces. Somewhere in the middle he found the rotund figure and smiling face of his friend Kosehira. Evidently he had strayed into a party hosted by Kosehira, and he ducked his head and passed by quickly.

But Kosehira had already seen him. He was shouting, "Akitada! Akitada! Up here!" When Akitada turned, Kosehira had climbed upon his seat and was waving excitedly. "By all that's holy! It is you! Come up here, man!"

Akitada feigned pleased surprise and clambered up. Kosehira made room next to himself, found a pillow for Akitada, introduced him around and insisted he stay for the procession. In the distance sounded the great drum, and they could hear the runners' first shouts to "make way." Akitada settled down to enjoy himself.

The procession came their way so quickly that there was little time to exchange news with Kosehira. In the vanguard walked the Shinto priests in their white robes. They were followed by officials in bright yellow silk who carried large red and gold fans on long poles.