Part 48 (2/2)
So the conference broke up.
Mr. Fujinami Gentaro had no sooner returned to the academic calm of his chaste reading room, than Mr. Ito appeared on the threshold.
The oily face was more moist than usual, the buffalo-horn moustache more truculent; and though the autumn day was cool, Ito was agitating a fan. He was evidently nervous. Before approaching the sanctum, he had blown his nose into a small square piece of soft paper, which is the j.a.panese apology for a handkerchief. He had looked around for some place where to cast the offence; but finding none along the trim garden border, he had slipped it into his wide kimono sleeve.
Mr. Fujinami frowned. He was tired of business matters, and the worry of other people's affairs. He longed for peace.
”Indeed, the weather becomes perceptibly cooler,” said Mr. Ito, with a low prostration.
”If there is business,” his patron replied crisply, ”please step up into the room.”
Mr. Ito slipped off his _geta_, and ascended from the garden path.
When he had settled himself in the correct att.i.tude with legs crossed and folded, Mr. Fujinami pushed over towards him a packet of cigarettes, adding;
”Please, without embarra.s.sment, speak quickly what you have to say.”
Mr. Ito chose a cigarette, and slowly pinched together the cardboard holder, which formed its lower half.
”Indeed, _sensei_, it is a difficult matter,” he began. ”It is a matter which should be handled by an intermediary. If I speak face to face like a foreigner the master will excuse my rudeness.”
”Please, speak clearly.”
”I owe my advancement in life entirely to the master. I was the son of poor parents. I was an emigrant and a vagabond over three thousand worlds. The master gave me a home and lucrative employment. I have served the master for many years; with my poor effort the fortunes of the family have perhaps increased. I have become as it were a _son_ to the Fujinami.”
He paused at the word ”son.” His employer had caught his meaning, and was frowning more than ever. At last he answered:
”To expect too much is a dangerous thing. To choose a _yos.h.i.+_ (adopted son) is a difficult question. I myself cannot decide such grave matters. There must be consultation with the rest of the Fujinami family. You yourself have suggested that Governor Sugiwara might perhaps be a suitable person.”
”At that time the talk was of Sada San; this time the talk is of Asa San.”
A flash of inspiration struck Mr. Fujinami Gentaro, and a gush of relief. By giving her to Ito, he might be able to side-track Asako, and leave the highway to inheritance free for his own daughter. But Ito had grown too powerful to be altogether trusted.
”It must be clearly understood,” said the master, ”that it is the husband of our Sada who will be the Fujinami _yos.h.i.+_.”
Ito bowed.
”Thanks to the master,” he said, ”there is money in plenty. There is no desire to speak of such matters. The request is for Asa San only.
Truly, the heart is speaking. That girl is a beautiful child, and altogether a _haikara_ person. My wife is old and barren and of low cla.s.s. I wish to have a wife who is worthy of my position in the house of Fujinami San.”
The head of the family cackled with sudden laughter; he was much relieved.
”Ha! Ha! Ito Kun! So it is love, is it? You are in love like a school student. Well, indeed, love is a good thing. What you have said shall be well considered.”
So the lawyer was dismissed.
Accordingly, at the next family council Mr. Fujinami put forward the proposal that Asako should be married forthwith to the family factotum, who should be given a lump sum down in consideration for a surrender of all further claim in his own name or his wife's to any share in the family capital.
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