She conducted him to another larger guest-room, where preparations for a feast had been made, and having shown him the place of honor, left him for a moment alone.  She returned accompanied by the Him[’e]gimi-Sama; and, at the first sight of the young mistress, It[=o] felt again the strange thrill of wonder and delight that had come to him in the garden, as he listened to the music of the koto.  Never had he dreamed of so beautiful a being.  Light seemed to radiate from her presence, and to shine through her garments, as the light of the moon through flossy clouds; her loosely flowing hair swayed about her as she moved, like the boughs of the drooping willow bestirred by the breezes of spring; her lips were like flowers of the peach besprinkled with morning dew.  It[=o] was bewildered by the vision.  He asked himself whether he was not looking upon the person of Amano-kawara-no-Ori-Him[’e] herself,—­the Weaving-Maiden who dwells by the shining River of Heaven.

Smiling, the aged woman turned to the fair one, who remained speechless, with downcast eyes and flushing cheeks, and said to her:—­

“See, my child!—­at the moment when we could least have hoped for such a thing, the very person whom you wished to meet has come of his own accord.  So fortunate a happening could have been brought about only by the will of the high gods.  To think of it makes me weep for joy.”  And she sobbed aloud.  “But now,” she continued, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, “it only remains for you both—­unless either prove unwilling, which I doubt—­to pledge yourselves to each other, and to partake of your wedding feast.”

* * * * *

It[=o] answered by no word:  the incomparable vision before him had numbed his will and tied his tongue.  Maid-servants entered, bearing dishes and wine:  the wedding feast was spread before the pair; and the pledges were given.  It[=o] nevertheless remained as in a trance:  the marvel of the adventure, and the wonder of the beauty of the bride, still bewildered him.  A gladness, beyond aught that he had ever known before, filled his heart—­like a great silence.  But gradually he recovered his wonted calm; and thereafter he found himself able to converse without embarrassment.  Of the wine he partook freely; and he ventured to speak, in a self-depreciating but merry way, about the doubts and fears that had oppressed him.  Meanwhile the bride remained still as moonlight, never lifting her eyes, and replying only by a blush or a smile when he addressed her.

It[=o] said to the aged attendant:—­

“Many times, in my solitary walks, I have passed through this village without knowing of the existence of this honorable dwelling.  And ever since entering here, I have been wondering why this noble household should have chosen so lonesome a place of sojourn....  Now that your Him[’e]gimi-Sama and I have become pledged to each other, it seems to me a strange thing that I do not yet know the name of her august family.”