Read it through once

Soon afterwards Yūgiri called again at the Great Hall. He was far exceeding the number of visits for which his grandmother had stipulated; but he still hoped that by some accident he might get the chance of speaking a word or two to the playmate who had been so cruelly wrested from him. To his disgust the first thing he saw when he approached the Great Hall was Tō no Chūjō’s carriage. He stole away to his old room, which was still kept in readiness for him, and remained in hiding for some while. Not only Tō no Chūjō but all his sons were there—Kashiwagi, Kōbai, and the rest, but Princess Ōmiya would not receive any of them behind her curtains-of-state. Sayemon no Kami and Gon Chūnagon, who were not her own children but had been born to the late Minister of the Left by another wife, were also in the habit of calling, out of respect to their father’s memory, and on this occasion, thinking to please and interest their step-mother, they had brought their little sons with them. But the only result was that, comparing them in her mind with her favourite Yūgiri, she thought them very ugly, unattractive little boys. Yūgiri and Kumoi, these were the only grandchildren for whom she really cared. And now the little girl who had been her delight, upon whom she had lavished so much tenderness and care,—Kumoi, who for all these years had never left her side, was to be taken from her and put into a stranger’s hands.