AT the evening meal, which was served upon an open balcony because of the intense heat, Ohano kept her eyes assiduously upon her food. The mood of her mother-in-law had changed. There was nothing gentle in her expression now as she savagely stabbed at the live fish upon her plate, speared it in just the proper place, and then lifted a morsel of the still palpitating flesh upon her chop-stick.
“This is excellent fish, Ohano,” she said, pleasantly. “Come, taste a morsel while the live flavor is still upon it. Possibly it will remind you of the brevity of life. Now we are here, possessed of tempestuous passions and emotions—for even a fish, so it is said, has the soul of a murderer. Then just think, one sharp pick of the knife—or sword—and, like the honorable fish, we are—gone! The devils of hatred, envy, desire, and malice can no longer torture us!”
Ohano said nothing. She gave one swift glance at the fish, then turned away, nauseated.
Lady Saito grunted and fell to eating her meal as if hungry. Presently, filled and refreshed, she began again:
“Of course it must be very plain to you, Ohano, that it will be impossible for the Saitos to regain possession of my son’s child unless we take into our household the mother also.”
Ohano sat up with a start, and as her mother-in-law continued, the expression of intense fear on her face deepened.
“I know of no law in Japan—and I have been advised in the matter—by which we can forcibly take a child from its mother, in the absence of its father.”
Ohano did not move. She moistened her dry lips, and her eyes moved furtively. She watched her mother-in-law’s face with a mute expression, half of terror and half of defiance. In the going of the hated child of the Spider, Ohano had not found the relief she had expected. Nay, there loomed before her now the possibility of a greater menace to her peace of mind. She felt the weight of the older woman’s tyrannical will as never before. She stammered:
“Pardon my dullness. I do not understand your words.”
“It is better,” counseled the other, sternly, “that you not alone understand my words, but that you study them well! Think awhile, Ohano!”
For a time there was silence between them; then Lady Saito continued:
“It is my wish, it is the wish of the ancestors, that the honorable descendant of the Saitos be housed here in the home of his fathers. If it is impossible to have my son’s son without the legal custodian of his body, then we must face the matter gracefully, and solicit her, humbly if need be, to come also!”
“That—would be—impossible!” gasped Ohano.
“Nay,” protested her mother, coldly, “it is done every day in Japan. The honorable Moonlight will not be the first divorced wife who has been again received in the home of the parents-in-law. You forget that until recently there was even a custom among many families where the wife failed in her duty to supply children to her husband, for an honorable concubine to be chosen in her place duly to serve her lord.”
Ohano tried to smile, but it was a ghastly effort.
“That is an ancient custom. It is no longer tolerated in Japan. It would be a matter of notorious gossip. We could not, with honor, she and I, live under the same roof together.”
“That is true,” admitted Lady Saito, calmly, and now she met Ohano’s eyes firmly.
“I refuse to be ‘returned,’” cried Ohano, shrilly. “My honorable relatives will not permit you to divorce me for such a cause. It is not possible to treat me in the manner accorded a geisha!”
“That, too, is true,” quietly assented her mother-in-law. “We, the Saitos, desire to remain on terms of friendship with your most honorable family. Now, therefore, we look to you, Ohano, for a solution of the problem. You are right. These are not the times when honorable men maintain concubines under the same roofs as their wives. We wish to impress the Western people with our morality! Ha!” she broke ............