not without its good aspect, although in a strange land, among strangers, every added ritual was an ordeal. The femininity in her, seasoned for the past half year of living with in-laws, without the blessings due a bride, had steeled her to an independent view of life seldom seen in a virgin of her age.
The chapel was Congregational. The altar decorated with various symbolic paraphernalia was not like that of a Buddhist temple. It was not there to lend atmosphere. It was of a most austere simplicity. To her, accustomed to Buddhist rituals, a Roman Catholic ceremony would have been more solemn and significant and she could have felt some link to her past in the surge of a religious emotion. As it was, she was not particularly impressed. Only the solid gold ring placed on her finger during the ceremony gladdened her heart. After all, there was something concrete and tangible derived from this Western custom. Just as her mother had to shave off her eyebrows, blacken her teeth, and wear a new elaborate coiffure to show her married status, she would henceforth be wearing this simple but significant symbol to show that she was a wife; a station in life coveted by womankind all over the world.
It was early evening when they were at last alone in the room. The luggage had already arrived and she began to take necessary articles from the willow trunk. Seikichi came to help with alacrity. Various toilet articles that only women use began to appear on the bureau top. Kimono and underwear came out and were laid out on the bed. An odor that issues only from such feminine wearing apparel pervaded the room. Seikichi was intoxicated with this aroma. It was a forgotten sensation. This was the same odor that filled the room when his mother had taken her kimono from the tansu to doll up for some festivity or visit another village. He experienced a new satisfaction of possessiveness. This was his mate. There was also the peculiar association of his mother and this woman. The woman nearest his heart had been his mother, but the entire family had to share her love and affection. Now came this woman to arouse his male instinct and he was in a position to monopolize her completely. This association was made clear by the odor emanating from the kimono. Primitive instincts long forgotten, but lying latent in evolutionary memory, arise on different occasions to assert the truth of the Darwinian concept, despite our gilded armor of civilization. Somewhere in our forgotten past, courtship must have been instigated principally by the powerful attraction of the opposite sex perceived by the olfactory mechanism. As if to end Seikichi's reverie, the maid knocked and announced, "The dining room is ready, and awaiting your presence."
At a long table, the five new couples were seated—each pair occupying places adjacent to each other. In the center of the table, covered with oil cloth, was a calabash of steaming, boiled rice. At each place was a porcelain bowl, a pair of sterilized, sanitary wooden chopsticks enclosed in wax paper, and two empty dishes, large and small. From a large communal plate, the brides were dishing out a concoction of beef and vegetables, fish cooked in plain shoyu, and some slices of raw fish to be eaten with shoyu mixed with mustard. Seikichi sat still as Haru stood up and filled his bowl with rice and his plate with the various items of food. Then she served herself. The maid came in with a tray of soup in lacquered bowls. Haru took two. As she picked up the wooden chopsticks, and placed them on his plate, she said softly, "Oagari nasai (please partake of it.)" Such service was almost embarrassing for an erstwhile bachelor. Only after he began eating did she start, and even then her appetite was like a canary's. He marvelled at this lack of appetite; it must be reticence and bashfulness.
The women were quiet. During their long voyage they must have become friends, but now there was no carefreeness. They did not wish to appear flippant before their mates' eyes. The men were total strangers. Under the circumstances the supper table was as solemn as a sepulchre. Each finished eating with undue haste. As he led the way out, Seikichi turned to Haru, "I am going out for a little walk. You may return to the room." She bowed obeisance and went upstairs. He went out and proceeded to the corner Chinese store across the bridge where he had noticed fruits on the counter earlier in the day. There he bought some bright colored mangoes, bananas, and oranges.
When he returned to their room, Haru was sitting on one of the straight-back chairs fanning herself, for the setting sun was fierce and there was not a sign of a breeze. She greeted him with a smile that was no longer forced. To have served him, even in a small capacity at the table, seemed to have earned her the right to claim this man as her husband. To comfort him, to be a hand or a foot for her lord, was a duty to be pleasurably performed by a wife. She had been trained so at home. To have made a start in the right direction made her glad. She no longer felt, as a stranger to him. The mutual discard of the icy barrier was more speedy than the melting of late spring snow in the morning sun. She was conscious now that in this wide world there was no one to whom she could turn for help or comfort other than this man whom she had scarcely known six hours.
"Now that we have nothing to do, let me have news from home. Is everybody well? Are my parents healthy?"
"Your august parents are as well as could be. Neither of them has lost a day of work this year. The crop was coming up well. The rice plant was about two inches tall when I left. There was ample rainfall in May to assure good irrigation. The wheat crop was normal in its yield during the spring, so there is no acute want among the villagers. Your brother's wife recently gave birth to her second son and both are doing well. Our sister-in-law is fortunate."
"And how are your parents at Mitajiri? I have only a faint memory of how they look, but we shall get acquainted even if the best we could do was a photograph."
"Thank you. They are also well and send their most sincere greetings to you. Oh yes, I have a letter written by my father." She rose and from among her writing materials she produced a long envelope on which his name was written boldly with brush and India ink.
He broke open the seal and the contents read in part: By the curious turn of the wheel of Karma our families have become intimately linked together again by this marriage. She may not have been brought up sufficiently well to suit your taste. If she has faults and is lacking in feminine virtues, we her parents are to blame for such shortcomings. Pray be patient and lead her to a loftier plane of womanhood. As a loving husband and protector you will be able to mould her character according to your wish and ideal. This we do not doubt, for she is still pliable. Where we have failed as disciplinarians, you will succeed with your love. In a strange land, her husband will be her sole support and counselor. My wife and I entrust you with her future happiness. May you both prosper and live happily, long after we two shall have departed from this earthly existence.
Seikichi was deeply moved. He saw that this father-in-law was no ordinary farmer or merchant. After reading the letter and folding it slowly and carefully, he said to her feelingly, "I shall answer this letter myself, but when you write home, convey my message also—how I have been deeply moved. It seems what I wanted to tell you, your father has told me. At your leisure, tomorrow, you had better read this message also. It is a message both of us should heed. I have gained a very wise father-in-law."
Haru blushed deeply and was grateful for the consideration of this man for uttering such sentiments. Japanese males are usually reticent about showing their feelings. This spontaneous gesture won her over to him completely.
Just then, there was a knock and the maid announced that the hot bath was ready. Haru got to her feet and said, "Please take off your clothes." She began looking among his things for his yukata, a kimono of cotton fabric worn in the summer months. This she put over his back as he began taking his trousers off, and as he pushed his arms through the sleeves, her arms were around his waist tying the sash for him.
She followed him to the bathroom. As he sank his body up to his chin in the steaming hot water, she was tying her long sleeves behind her back, and tucking up the lower hem of her kimono. "Now, let me scrub your back."
He emerged from the water as red as a lobster and sat on a low wooden stool, turning his back to her. Japanese baths have a space outside the tub where soap and water may be used repeatedly. She lathered his back and arms with soap thoroughly and briskly scrubbed him. Then with fresh hot water she washed him off. After saying "At your leisure," she left the bathroom. He completed washing the rest of his torso and then immersed himself again luxuriantly in the steaming water. Relaxed completely, he reviewed the day's happenings. It was an eventful day. One thing after another, but everything a happy incident. How well-bred she was! How lucky he was! He had his parents to