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Brother’ and I thought ‘Uncle’ would make you feel like an old man. What may I call you?”
    Akitada had been more shocked by her touch than by being called cousin and felt himself redden also. “Not at all. I like being called ‘cousin’ by such a pretty young lady,” he said awkwardly. “You are very kind. The fact is I am an old man, and you made me feel young again.” When he realized that this had sounded not only flirtatious but also encouraged more reassurances that he was not at all old, he flushed again.
    She looked at him, wide-eyed. “You old? But that’s silly. You’re my father’s age—I know because I asked. I’ve asked a million questions about you—but you look much younger and you have had such an exciting life that no one could possibly think of you as old.”
    “You flatter me, Lady Yukiko. I don’t know what to say, except that your father must have grossly exaggerated.”
    “Please call me Yukiko. You seem like a part of my family. If you’re going to be formal, you force me to be formal also. I’ll have to start carrying a fan and hide my face whenever I see you. Do you want that?”
    Her eyes twinkled, the soft lips smiled, and, yes, she dimpled when she said this. Feeling foolish, Akitada smiled back, gazed into her pretty face, and said quite honestly, “Heaven forbid!”
    She laughed. It was a very pretty laugh, natural and light-hearted, and it fell like music on his ears. There had been too little laughter in his life. Kosehira was a lucky man. He lived surrounded by happy people.
    As he thought this, Akitada realized that Kosehira himself was surely the cause of such a joyous home. Kosehira’s wealth and influence had perhaps made it easier for him to be cheerful, but there were more fundamental differences between them than status. He had never been able to laugh spontaneously like that. Even when he had been Yukiko’s age, he had been intense and forever worried about what people thought of him. These days, he was bitter and cynical, having found little in his experiences to lighten his mood and give him hope.
    She still studied him. Perhaps he should have made her a compliment, but he shied away from this.
    “What is it?” he asked.
    “You looked absolutely crushed. What were you thinking about?”
    He turned away. “Please show me your beautiful garden. You don’t want to know my thoughts.”
    “Forgive me,” she said softly. “I’m always saying the wrong thing. You must still love her very much.”
    Akitada sighed. Young women could be very difficult. “I wasn’t thinking of my wife, but yes, I did love her very much. And there is nothing to forgive. I’m a crabby old fellow and you are trying hard to raise my spirits. That is a great kindness.” He added a smile when he saw the uncertainty in her face.
    She smiled back. “You’re not crabby, just very reserved and a little shy. Come along, then. It’s a very lovely garden, better than our other ones in the city or the country.”
    Kosehira had two primary residences. Akitada was familiar with the mansion in the capital, having attended many parties there and also been Kosehira’s only guest. It was typical of the homes of the ranking noblemen and imperial princes. But he had to admit that this villa was prettier and the garden more interesting. Some of its attractiveness came from the fact that they were in a mountainous area and so the paths dipped and turned and climbed again, often via stone steps. And at every turn, there was some pleasure: a stone lantern among flowering azaleas, a sudden overlook revealing another glimpse of the lake, a rustic stone garden seat, a water basin where they disturbed some birds, and a small rill that flowed into a pond.
    They came to a halt beside the pond. “Oh,” he said, delighted, “you have koi . So do I, in a much smaller pond outside my room. They have given me much pleasure.”
    “I wish I may see them someday,” Yukiko said and knelt on the mossy