CHAPTER VIII.

By a strange coincidence, Chia Pao-yü becomes acquainted with the

golden clasp.

In an unexpected meeting, Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai sees the jade of spiritual

perception.

Pao-yü and lady Feng, we will now explain, paid, on their return home,

their respects to all the inmates, and Pao-yü availed himself of the

first occasion to tell dowager lady Chia of his wish that Ch'in Chung

should come over to the family school. "The presence for himself of a

friend as schoolmate would," he argued, "be fitly excellent to stir him

to zeal," and he went on to speak in terms of high praise of Ch'in

Chung, his character and his manners, which most of all made people

esteem him.

Lady Feng besides stood by him and backed his request. "In a day or

two," she added, "Ch'in Chung will be coming to pay his obeisance to

your venerable ladyship."

This bit of news greatly rejoiced the heart of dowager lady Chia, and

lady Feng likewise did not let the opportunity slip, without inviting

the old lady to attend the theatrical performance to come off the day

after the morrow. Dowager lady Chia was, it is true, well on in years,

but was, nevertheless, very fond of enjoyment, so that when the day

arrived and Mrs. Yu came over to invite her round, she forthwith took

madame Wang, Lin Tai-yü, Pao-yü and others along and went to the play.

It was about noon, when dowager lady Chia returned to her apartments for

her siesta; and madame Wang, who was habitually partial to a quiet life,

also took her departure after she had seen the old lady retire. Lady

Feng subsequently took the seat of honour; and the party enjoyed

themselves immensely till the evening, when they broke up.

But to return to Pao-yü. Having accompanied his grandmother Chia back

home, and waited till her ladyship was in her midday sleep, he had in

fact an inclination to return to the performance, but he was afraid lest

he should be a burden to Mrs. Ch'in and the rest and lest they should

not feel at ease. Remembering therefore that Pao Ch'ai had been at home

unwell for the last few days, and that he had not been to see her, he

was anxious to go and look her up, but he dreaded that if he went by the

side gate, at the back of the drawing-room, he would be prevented by

something or other, and fearing, what would be making matters worse,

lest he should come across his father, he consequently thought it better

to go on his way by a detour. The nurses and waiting-maids thereupon

came to help him to change his clothes; but they saw him not change, but

go out again by the second door. These nurses and maids could not help

following him out; but they were still under the impression that he was

going over to the other mansion to see the theatricals. Contrary to

their speculations, upon reaching the entrance hall, he forthwith went

to the east, then turned to the north, and walking round by the rear of

the hall, he happened to come face to face with two of the family

companions, Mr. Ch'an Kuang, and Mr. Tan T'ing-jen. As soon as they

caught sight of Pao-yü, they both readily drew up to him, and as they

smiled, the one put his arm round his waist, while the other grasped him

by the hand.

"Oh divine brother!" they both exclaimed, "this we call dreaming a

pleasant dream, for it's no easy thing to come across you!"

While continuing their remarks they paid their salutations, and inquired

after his health; and it was only after they had chatted for ever so

long, that they went on their way. The nurse called out to them and

stopped them, "Have you two gentlemen," she said, "come out from seeing

master?"

They both nodded assent. "Your master," they explained, "is in the Meng

P'o Chai small library having his siesta; so that you can go through

there with no fear."

As they uttered these words, they walked away.

This remark also evoked a smile from Pao-yü, but without further delay

he turned a corner, went towards the north, and came into the Pear

Fragrance Court, where, as luck would have it, he met the head manager

of the Household Treasury, Wu Hsin-teng, who, in company with the head

of the granary, Tai Liang, and several other head stewards, seven

persons in all, was issuing out of the Account Room.

On seeing Pao-yü approaching, they, in a body, stood still, and hung

down their arms against their sides. One of them alone, a certain

butler, called Ch'ien Hua, promptly came forward, as he had not seen

Pao-yü for many a day, and bending on one knee, paid his respects to

Pao-yü. Pao-yü at once gave a smile and pulled him up.

"The day before yesterday," smiled all the bystanders, "we were

somewhere together and saw some characters written by you, master

Secundus, in the composite style. The writing is certainly better than

it was before! When will you give us a few sheets to stick on the wall?"

"Where did you see them?" inquired Pao-yü, with a grin.

"They are to be found in more than one place," they replied, "and every

one praises them very much, and what's more, asks us for a few."

"They are not worth having," observed Pao-yü smilingly; "but if you do

want any, tell my young servants and it will be all right."

As he said these words, he moved onwards. The whole party waited till he

had gone by, before they separated, each one to go his own way.

But we need not dilate upon matters of no moment, but return to Pao-yü.

On coming to the Pear Fragrance Court, he entered, first, into "aunt"

Hsüeh's room, where he found her getting some needlework ready to give

to the waiting-maids to work at. Pao-yü forthwith paid his respects to

her, and "aunt" Hsüeh, taking him by the hand, drew him towards her and

clasped him in her embrace.

"With this cold weather," she smilingly urged, "it's too kind of you, my

dear child, to think of coming to see me; come along on the stove-couch

at once!--Bring some tea," she continued, addressing the servants, "and

make it as hot as it can be!"

"Isn't Hsüeh P'an at home?" Pao-yü having inquired: "He's like a horse

without a halter," Mrs. Hsüeh remarked with a sigh; "he's daily running

here and there and everywhere, and nothing can induce him to stay at

home one single day."

"Is sister (Pao Ch'ai) all right again?" asked Pao-yü. "Yes," replied

Mrs. Hsüeh, "she's well again. It was very kind of you two days ago to

again think of her, and send round to inquire after her. She's now in

there, and you can go and see her. It's warmer there than it's here; go

and sit with her inside, and, as soon as I've put everything away, I'll

come and join you and have a chat."

Pao-yü, upon hearing this, jumped down with alacrity from the

stove-couch, and walked up to the door of the inner room, where he saw

hanging a portière somewhat the worse for use, made of red silk. Pao-yü

raised the portière and making one step towards the interior, he found

Pao Ch'ai seated on the couch, busy over some needlework. On the top of

her head was gathered, and made into a knot, her chevelure, black as

lacquer, and glossy like pomade. She wore a honey-coloured wadded robe,

a rose-brown short-sleeved jacket, lined with the fur of the squirrel of

two colours: the "gold and silver;" and a jupe of leek-yellow silk. Her

whole costume was neither too new, neither too old, and displayed no

sign of extravagance.

Her lips, though not rouged, were naturally red; her eyebrows, though

not pencilled, were yet blue black; her face resembled a silver basin,

and her eyes, juicy plums. She was sparing in her words, chary in her

talk, so much so that people said that she posed as a simpleton. She was

quiet in the acquittal of her duties and scrupulous as to the proper

season for everything. "I practise simplicity," she would say of

herself.

"How are you? are you quite well again, sister?" inquired Pao-yü, as he

gazed at her; whereupon Pao Ch'ai raised her head, and perceiving Pao-yü

walk in, she got up at once and replied with a smile, "I'm all right

again; many thanks for your kindness in thinking of me."

While uttering this, she pressed him to take a seat on the stove-couch,

and as he sat down on the very edge of the couch, she told Ying Erh to

bring tea and asked likewise after dowager lady Chia and lady Feng. "And

are all the rest of the young ladies quite well?" she inquired.

Saying this she scrutinised Pao-yü, who she saw had a head-dress of

purplish-gold twisted threads, studded with precious stones. His

forehead was bound with a gold circlet, representing two dragons,

clasping a pearl. On his person he wore a light yellow, archery-sleeved

jacket, ornamented with rampant dragons, and lined with fur from the

ribs of the silver fox; and was clasped with a dark sash, embroidered

with different-coloured butterflies and birds. Round his neck was hung

an amulet, consisting of a clasp of longevity, a talisman of recorded

name, and, in addition to these, the precious jade which he had had in

his mouth at the time of his birth.

"I've daily heard every one speak of this jade," said Pao Ch'ai with a

smile, "but haven't, after all, had an opportunity of looking at it

closely, but anyhow to-day I must see it."

As she spoke, she drew near. Pao-yü himself approached, and taking it

from his neck, he placed it in Pao Ch'ai's hand. Pao Ch'ai held it in

her palm. It appeared to her very much like the egg of a bird,

resplendent as it was like a bright russet cloud; shiny and smooth like

variegated curd and covered with a net for the sake of protection.

Readers, you should know that this was the very block of useless stone

which had been on the Ta Huang Hills, and which had dropped into the

Ch'ing Keng cave, in a state of metamorphosis. A later writer expresses

his feelings in a satirical way as follows:

Nü Wo's fusion of stones was e'er a myth inane,

But from this myth hath sprung fiction still more insane!

Lost is the subtle life, divine, and real!--gone!

Assumed, mean subterfuge! foul bags of skin and bone!

Fortune, when once adverse, how true! gold glows no more!

In evil days, alas! the jade's splendour is o'er!

Bones, white and bleached, in nameless hill-like mounds are flung,

Bones once of youths renowned and maidens fair and young.

The rejected stone has in fact already given a record of the

circumstances of its transformation, and the inscription in seal

characters, engraved upon it by the bald-headed bonze, and below will

now be also appended a faithful representation of it; but its real size

is so very diminutive, as to allow of its being held by a child in his

mouth while yet unborn, that were it to have been drawn in its exact

proportions, the characters would, it is feared, have been so

insignificant in size, that the beholder would have had to waste much of

his eyesight, and it would besides have been no pleasant thing.

While therefore its shape has been adhered to, its size has unavoidably

been slightly enlarged, to admit of the reader being able, conveniently,

to peruse the inscription, even by very lamplight, and though he may be

under the influence of wine.

These explanations have been given to obviate any such sneering remarks

as: "What could be, pray, the size of the mouth of a child in his

mother's womb, and how could it grasp such a large and clumsy thing?"

On the face of the jade was written:

Precious Gem of Spiritual Perception.

If thou wilt lose me not and never forget me,

Eternal life and constant luck will be with thee!

On the reverse was written:

1 To exorcise evil spirits and the accessory visitations;

2 To cure predestined sickness;

3 To prognosticate weal and woe.

Pao Ch'ai having looked at the amulet, twisted it again to the face, and

scrutinising it closely, read aloud:

If thou wilt lose me not and never forget me,

Eternal life and constant luck will be with thee!

She perused these lines twice, and, turning round, she asked Ying Erh

laughingly: "Why don't you go and pour the tea? what are you standing

here like an idiot!"

"These two lines which I've heard," smiled Ying Erh, "would appear to

pair with the two lines on your necklet, miss!"

"What!" eagerly observed Pao-yü with a grin, when he caught these words,

"are there really eight characters too on your necklet, cousin? do let

me too see it."

"Don't listen to what she says," remarked Pao Ch'ai, "there are no

characters on it."

"My dear cousin," pleaded Pao-yü entreatingly, "how is it you've seen

mine?"

Pao Ch'ai was brought quite at bay by this remark of his, and she

consequently added, "There are also two propitious phrases engraved on

this charm, and that's why I wear it every day. Otherwise, what pleasure

would there be in carrying a clumsy thing."

As she spoke, she unfastened the button, and produced from inside her

crimson robe, a crystal-like locket, set with pearls and gems, and with

a brilliant golden fringe. Pao-yü promptly received it from her, and

upon minute examination, found that there were in fact four characters

on each side; the eight characters on both sides forming two sentences

of good omen. The similitude of the locket is likewise then given below.

On the face of the locket is written:

"Part not from me and cast me not away;"

And on the reverse:

"And youth, perennial freshness will display!"

Pao-yü examined the charm, and having also read the inscription twice

over aloud, and then twice again to himself, he said as he smiled, "Dear

cousin, these eight characters of yours form together with mine an

antithetical verse."

"They were presented to her," ventured Ying Erh, "by a mangy-pated

bonze, who explained that they should be engraved on a golden

trinket...."

Pao Ch'ai left her no time to finish what she wished to say, but

speedily called her to task for not going to bring the tea, and then

inquired of Pao-yü "Where he had come from?"

Pao-yü had, by this time, drawn quite close to Pao Ch'ai, and perceived

whiff after whiff of some perfume or other, of what kind he could not

tell. "What perfume have you used, my cousin," he forthwith asked, "to

fumigate your dresses with? I really don't remember smelling any

perfumery of the kind before."

"I'm very averse," replied Pao Ch'ai blandly, "to the odour of

fumigation; good clothes become impregnated with the smell of smoke."

"In that case," observed Pao-yü, "what scent is it?"

"Yes, I remember," Pao Ch'ai answered, after some reflection; "it's the

scent of the 'cold fragrance' pills which I took this morning."

"What are these cold fragrance pills," remarked Pao-yü smiling, "that

they have such a fine smell? Give me, cousin, a pill to try."

"Here you are with your nonsense again," Pao Ch'ai rejoined laughingly;

"is a pill a thing to be taken recklessly?"

She had scarcely finished speaking, when she heard suddenly some one

outside say, "Miss Lin is come;" and shortly Lin Tai-yü walked in in a

jaunty manner.

"Oh, I come at a wrong moment!" she exclaimed forthwith, smirking

significantly when she caught sight of Pao-yü.

Pao-yü and the rest lost no time in rising and offering her a seat,

whereupon Pao Ch'ai added with a smile, "How can you say such things?"

"Had I known sooner," continued Tai-yü, "that he was here, I would have

kept away."

"I can't fathom this meaning of yours," protested Pao Ch'ai.

"If one comes," Tai-yü urged smiling, "then all come, and when one

doesn't come, then no one comes. Now were he to come to-day, and I to

come to-morrow, wouldn't there be, by a division of this kind, always

some one with you every day? and in this way, you wouldn't feel too

lonely, nor too crowded. How is it, cousin, that you didn't understand

what I meant to imply?"

"Is it snowing?" inquired Pao-yü, upon noticing that she wore a cloak

made of crimson camlet, buttoning in front.

"It has been snowing for some time," ventured the matrons, who were

standing below. "Fetch my wrapper!" Pao-yü remarked, and Tai-yü readily

laughed. "Am I not right? I come, and, of course, he must go at once."

"Did I ever mention that I was going?" questioned Pao-yü; "I only wish

it brought to have it ready when I want it."

"It's a snowy day," consequently remarked Pao-yü's nurse, dame Li, "and

we must also look to the time, but you had better remain here and amuse

yourself with your cousin. Your aunt has, in there, got ready tea and

fruits. I'll tell the waiting-maid to go and fetch your wrapper and the

boys to return home." Pao-yü assented, and nurse Li left the room and

told the boys that they were at liberty to go.

By this time Mrs. Hsüeh had prepared tea and several kinds of nice

things and kept them all to partake of those delicacies. Pao-yü, having

spoken highly of some goose feet and ducks' tongues he had tasted some

days before, at his eldest sister-in-law's, Mrs. Yu's, "aunt" Hsüeh

promptly produced several dishes of the same kind, made by herself, and

gave them to Pao-yü to try. "With a little wine," added Pao-yü with a

smile, "they would be first rate."

Mrs. Hsüeh thereupon bade the servants fetch some wine of the best

quality; but dame Li came forward and remonstrated. "My lady," she said,

"never mind the wine."

Pao-yü smilingly pleaded: "My nurse, I'll take just one cup and no

more."

"It's no use," nurse Li replied, "were your grandmother and mother

present, I wouldn't care if you drank a whole jar. I remember the day

when I turned my eyes away but for a moment, and some ignorant fool or

other, merely with the view of pandering for your favour, gave you only

a drop of wine to drink, and how this brought reproaches upon me for a

couple of days. You don't know, my lady, you have no idea of his

disposition! it's really dreadful; and when he has had a little wine he

shows far more temper. On days when her venerable ladyship is in high

spirits, she allows him to have his own way about drinking, but he's not

allowed to have wine on any and every day; and why should I have to

suffer inside and all for nothing at all?"

"You antiquated thing!" replied Mrs. Hsüeh laughing, "set your mind at

ease, and go and drink your own wine! I won't let him have too much, and

should even the old lady say anything, let the fault be mine."

Saying this, she asked a waiting-maid to take nurse Li along with her

and give her also a glass of wine so as to keep out the cold air.

When nurse Li heard these words, she had no alternative but to go for a

time with all the others and have some wine to drink.

"The wine need not be warmed: I prefer it cold!" Pao-yü went on to

suggest meanwhile.

"That won't do," remonstrated Mrs. Hsüeh; "cold wine will make your hand

tremble when you write."

"You have," interposed Pao Ch'ai smiling, "the good fortune, cousin

Pao-yü, of having daily opportunities of acquiring a knowledge of every

kind of subject, and yet don't you know that the properties of wine are

mostly heating? If you drink wine warm, its effects soon dispel, but if

you drink it cold, it at once congeals in you; and as upon your

intestines devolves the warming of it, how can you not derive any harm?

and won't you yet from this time change this habit of yours? leave off

at once drinking that cold wine."

Pao-yü finding that the words he had heard contained a good deal of

sense, speedily put down the cold wine, and having asked them to warm

it, he at length drank it.

Tai-yü was bent upon cracking melon seeds, saying nothing but simply

pursing up her lips and smiling, when, strange coincidence, Hsüeh Yen,

Tai-yü's waiting-maid, walked in and handed her mistress a small

hand-stove.

"Who told you to bring it?" ascertained Tai-yü grinningly. "I'm sorry to

have given whoever it is the trouble; I'm obliged to her. But did she

ever imagine that I would freeze to death?"

"Tzu Chuan was afraid," replied Hsüeh Yen, "that you would, miss, feel

cold, and she asked me to bring it over."

Tai-yü took it over and held it in her lap. "How is it," she smiled,

"that you listen to what she tells you, but that you treat what I say,

day after day, as so much wind blowing past your ears! How is it that

you at once do what she bids you, with even greater alacrity than you

would an imperial edict?"

When Pao-yü heard this, he felt sure in his mind that Tai-yü was

availing herself of this opportunity to make fun of him, but he made no

remark, merely laughing to himself and paying no further notice. Pao

Ch'ai, again, knew full well that this habit was a weak point with

Tai-yü, so she too did not go out of her way to heed what she said.

"You've always been delicate and unable to stand the cold," interposed

"aunt" Hsüeh, "and is it not a kind attention on their part to have

thought of you?"

"You don't know, aunt, how it really stands," responded Tai-yü

smilingly; "fortunately enough, it was sent to me here at your quarters;

for had it been in any one else's house, wouldn't it have been a slight

upon them? Is it forsooth nice to think that people haven't so much as a

hand-stove, and that one has fussily to be sent over from home? People

won't say that the waiting-maids are too officious, but will imagine

that I'm in the habit of behaving in this offensive fashion."

"You're far too punctilious," remarked Mrs. Hsüeh, "as to entertain such

notions! No such ideas as these crossed my mind just now."

While they were conversing, Pao-yü had taken so much as three cups of

wine, and nurse Li came forward again to prevent him from having any

more. Pao-yü was just then in a state of exultation and excitement, (a

state) enhanced by the conversation and laughter of his cousins, so that

was he ready to agree to having no more! But he was constrained in a

humble spirit to entreat for permission. "My dear nurse," he implored,

"I'll just take two more cups and then have no more."

"You'd better be careful," added nurse Li, "your father is at home

to-day, and see that you're ready to be examined in your lessons."

When Pao-yü heard this mention, his spirits at once sank within him, and

gently putting the wine aside, he dropped his head upon his breast.

Tai-yü promptly remonstrated. "You've thrown cold water," she said,

"over the spirits of the whole company; why, if uncle should ask to see

you, well, say that aunt Hsüeh detained you. This old nurse of yours has

been drinking, and again makes us the means of clearing her muddled

head!"

While saying this, she gave Pao-yü a big nudge with the intent of

stirring up his spirits, adding, as she addressed him in a low tone of

voice: "Don't let us heed that old thing, but mind our own enjoyment."

Dame Li also knew very well Tai-yü's disposition, and therefore

remarked: "Now, Miss Lin, don't you urge him on; you should after all,

give him good advice, as he may, I think, listen to a good deal of what

you say to him."

"Why should I urge him on?" rejoined Lin Tai-yü, with a sarcastic smile,

"nor will I trouble myself to give him advice. You, old lady, are far

too scrupulous! Old lady Chia has also time after time given him wine,

and if he now takes a cup or two more here, at his aunt's, lady Hsüeh's

house, there's no harm that I can see. Is it perhaps, who knows, that

aunt is a stranger in this establishment, and that we have in fact no

right to come over here to see her?"

Nurse Li was both vexed and amused by the words she had just heard.

"Really," she observed, "every remark this girl Lin utters is sharper

than a razor! I didn't say anything much!"

Pao Ch'ai too could not suppress a smile, and as she pinched Tai-yü's

cheek, she exclaimed, "Oh the tongue of this frowning girl! one can

neither resent what it says, nor yet listen to it with any

gratification!"

"Don't be afraid!" Mrs. Hsüeh went on to say, "don't be afraid; my son,

you've come to see me, and although I've nothing good to give you, you

mustn't, through fright, let the trifle you've taken lie heavy on your

stomach, and thus make me uneasy; but just drink at your pleasure, and

as much as you like, and let the blame fall on my shoulders. What's

more, you can stay to dinner with me, and then go home; or if you do get

tipsy, you can sleep with me, that's all."

She thereupon told the servants to heat some more wine. "I'll come," she

continued, "and keep you company while you have two or three cups, after

which we'll have something to eat!"

It was only after these assurances that Pao-yü's spirits began at

length, once more to revive, and dame Li then directed the waiting-maids

what to do. "You remain here," she enjoined, "and mind, be diligent

while I go home and change; when I'll come back again. Don't allow him,"

she also whispered to "aunt" Hsüeh, "to have all his own way and drink

too much."

Having said this, she betook herself back to her quarters; and during

this while, though there were two or three nurses in attendance, they

did not concern themselves with what was going on. As soon as they saw

that nurse Li had left, they likewise all quietly slipped out, at the

first opportunity they found, while there remained but two

waiting-maids, who were only too glad to curry favour with Pao-yü. But

fortunately "aunt" Hsüeh, by much coaxing and persuading, only let him

have a few cups, and the wine being then promptly cleared away, pickled

bamboo shoots and chicken-skin soup were prepared, of which Pao-yü drank

with relish several bowls full, eating besides more than half a bowl of

finest rice congee.

By this time, Hsüeh Pao Ch'ai and Lin Tai-yü had also finished their

repast; and when Pao-yü had drunk a few cups of strong tea, Mrs. Hsüeh

felt more easy in her mind. Hsüeh Yen and the others, three or four of

them in all, had also had their meal, and came in to wait upon them.

"Are you now going or not?" inquired Tai-yü of Pao-yü.

Pao-yü looked askance with his drowsy eyes. "If you want to go," he

observed, "I'll go with you."

Tai-yü hearing this, speedily rose. "We've been here nearly the whole

day," she said, "and ought to be going back."

As she spoke the two of them bade good-bye, and the waiting-maids at

once presented a hood to each of them.

Pao-yü readily lowered his head slightly and told a waiting-maid to put

it on. The girl promptly took the hood, made of deep red cloth, and

shaking it out of its folds, she put it on Pao-yü's head.

"That will do," hastily exclaimed Pao-yü. "You stupid thing! gently a

bit; is it likely you've never seen any one put one on before? let me do

it myself."

"Come over here, and I'll put it on for you," suggested Tai-yü, as she

stood on the edge of the couch. Pao-yü eagerly approached her, and

Tai-yü carefully kept the cap, to which his hair was bound, fast down,

and taking the hood she rested its edge on the circlet round his

forehead. She then raised the ball of crimson velvet, which was as large

as a walnut, and put it in such a way that, as it waved tremulously, it

should appear outside the hood. These arrangements completed she cast a

look for a while at what she had done. "That's right now," she added,

"throw your wrapper over you!"

When Pao-yü caught these words, he eventually took the wrapper and threw

it over his shoulders.

"None of your nurses," hurriedly interposed aunt Hsüeh, "are yet come,

so you had better wait a while."

"Why should we wait for them?" observed Pao-yü. "We have the

waiting-maids to escort us, and surely they should be enough."

Mrs. Hsüeh finding it difficult to set her mind at ease deputed two

married women to accompany the two cousins; and after they had both

expressed (to these women) their regret at having troubled them, they

came straightway to dowager lady Chia's suite of apartments.

Her venerable ladyship had not, as yet, had her evening repast. Hearing

that they had been at Mrs. Hsüeh's, she was extremely pleased; but

noticing that Pao-yü had had some wine, she gave orders that he should

be taken to his room, and put to bed, and not be allowed to come out

again.

"Do take good care of him," she therefore enjoined the servants, and

when suddenly she bethought herself of Pao-yü's attendants, "How is it,"

she at once inquired of them all, "that I don't see nurse Li here?"

They did not venture to tell her the truth, that she had gone home, but

simply explained that she had come in a few moments back, and that they

thought she must have again gone out on some business or other.

"She's better off than your venerable ladyship," remarked Pao-yü,

turning round and swaying from side to side. "Why then ask after her?

Were I rid of her, I believe I might live a little longer."

While uttering these words, he reached the door of his bedroom, where he

saw pen and ink laid out on the writing table.

"That's nice," exclaimed Ch'ing Wen, as she came to meet him with a

smile on her face, "you tell me to prepare the ink for you, but though

when you get up, you were full of the idea of writing, you only wrote

three characters, when you discarded the pencil, and ran away, fooling

me, by making me wait the whole day! Come now at once and exhaust all

this ink before you're let off."

Pao-yü then remembered what had taken place in the morning. "Where are

the three characters I wrote?" he consequently inquired, smiling.

"Why this man is tipsy," remarked Ch'ing Wen sneeringly. "As you were

going to the other mansion, you told me to stick them over the door. I

was afraid lest any one else should spoil them, as they were being

pasted, so I climbed up a high ladder and was ever so long in putting

them up myself; my hands are even now numb with cold."

"Oh I forgot all about it," replied Pao-yü grinning, "if your hands are

cold, come and I'll rub them warm for you."

Promptly stretching out his hand, he took those of Ch'ing Wen in his,

and the two of them looked at the three characters, which he recently

had written, and which were pasted above the door. In a short while,

Tai-yü came.

"My dear cousin," Pao-yü said to her smilingly, "tell me without any

prevarication which of the three characters is the best written?"

Tai-yü raised her head and perceived the three characters: Red, Rue,

Hall. "They're all well done," she rejoined, with a smirk, "How is it

you've written them so well? By and bye you must also write a tablet for

me."

"Are you again making fun of me?" asked Pao-yü smiling; "what about

sister Hsi Jen?" he went on to inquire.

Ch'ing Wen pouted her lips, pointing towards the stove-couch in the

inner room, and, on looking in, Pao-yü espied Hsi Jen fast asleep in her

daily costume.

"Well," Pao-yü observed laughing, "there's no harm in it, but its rather

early to sleep. When I was having my early meal, on the other side," he

proceeded, speaking to Ch'ing Wen, "there was a small dish of dumplings,

with bean-curd outside; and as I thought you would like to have some, I

asked Mrs. Yu for them, telling her that I would keep them, and eat them

in the evening; I told some one to bring them over, but have you

perchance seen them?"

"Be quick and drop that subject," suggested Ch'ing Wen; "as soon as they

were brought over, I at once knew they were intended for me; as I had

just finished my meal, I put them by in there, but when nurse Li came

she saw them. 'Pao-yü,' she said, 'is not likely to eat them, so I'll

take them and give them to my grandson.' And forthwith she bade some one

take them over to her home."

While she was speaking, Hsi Hsüeh brought in tea, and Pao-yü pressed his

cousin Lin to have a cup.

"Miss Lin has gone long ago," observed all of them, as they burst out

laughing, "and do you offer her tea?"

Pao-yü drank about half a cup, when he also suddenly bethought himself

of some tea, which had been brewed in the morning. "This morning," he

therefore inquired of Hsi Hsüeh, "when you made a cup of maple-dew tea,

I told you that that kind of tea requires brewing three or four times

before its colour appears; and how is that you now again bring me this

tea?"

"I did really put it by," answered Hsi Hsüeh, "but nurse Li came and

drank it, and then went off."

Pao-yü upon hearing this, dashed the cup he held in his hand on the

ground, and as it broke into small fragments, with a crash, it spattered

Hsi Hsüeh's petticoat all over.

"Of whose family is she the mistress?" inquired Pao-yü of Hsi Hsüeh, as

he jumped up, "that you all pay such deference to her. I just simply had

a little of her milk, when I was a brat, and that's all; and now she has

got into the way of thinking herself more high and mighty than even the

heads of the family! She should be packed off, and then we shall all

have peace and quiet."

Saying this, he was bent upon going, there and then, to tell dowager

lady Chia to have his nurse driven away.

Hsi Jen was really not asleep, but simply feigning, with the idea, when

Pao-yü came, to startle him in play. At first, when she heard him speak

of writing, and inquire after the dumplings, she did not think it

necessary to get up, but when he flung the tea-cup on the floor, and got

into a temper, she promptly jumped up and tried to appease him, and to

prevent him by coaxing from carrying out his threat.

A waiting-maid sent by dowager lady Chia came in, meanwhile, to ask what

was the matter.

"I had just gone to pour tea," replied Hsi Jen, without the least

hesitation, "and I slipped on the snow and fell, while the cup dropped

from my hand and broke. Your decision to send her away is good," she

went on to advise Pao-yü, "and we are all willing to go also; and why

not avail yourself of this opportunity to dismiss us in a body? It will

be for our good, and you too on the other hand, needn't perplex yourself

about not getting better people to come and wait on you!"

When Pao-yü heard this taunt, he had at length not a word to say, and

supported by Hsi Jen and the other attendants on to the couch, they

divested him of his clothes. But they failed to understand the drift of

what Pao-yü kept on still muttering, and all they could make out was an

endless string of words; but his eyes grew heavier and drowsier, and

they forthwith waited upon him until he went to sleep; when Hsi Jen

unclasped the jade of spiritual perception, and rolling it up in a

handkerchief, she lay it under the mattress, with the idea that when he

put it on the next day it should not chill his neck.

Pao-yü fell sound asleep the moment he lay his head on the pillow. By

this time nurse Li and the others had come in, but when they heard that

Pao-yü was tipsy, they too did not venture to approach, but gently made

inquiries as to whether he was asleep or not. On hearing that he was,

they took their departure with their minds more at ease.

The next morning the moment Pao-yü awoke, some one came in to tell him

that young Mr. Jung, living in the mansion on the other side, had

brought Ch'in Chung to pay him a visit.

Pao-yü speedily went out to greet them and to take them over to pay

their respects to dowager lady Chia. Her venerable ladyship upon

perceiving that Ch'in Chung, with his handsome countenance, and his

refined manners, would be a fit companion for Pao-yü in his studies,

felt extremely delighted at heart; and having readily detained him to

tea, and kept him to dinner, she went further and directed a servant to

escort him to see madame Wang and the rest of the family.

With the fond regard of the whole household for Mrs. Ch'in, they were,

when they saw what a kind of person Ch'in Chung was, so enchanted with

him, that at the time of his departure, they all had presents to give

him; even dowager lady Chia herself presented him with a purse and a

golden image of the God of Learning, with a view that it should incite

him to study and harmony.

"Your house," she further advised him, "is far off, and when it's cold

or hot, it would be inconvenient for you to come all that way, so you

had better come and live over here with me. You'll then be always with

your cousin Pao-yü, and you won't be together, in your studies, with

those fellow-pupils of yours who have no idea what progress means."

Ch'in Chung made a suitable answer to each one of her remarks, and on

his return home he told everything to his father.

His father, Ch'in Pang-yeh, held at present the post of Secretary in the

Peking Field Force, and was well-nigh seventy. His wife had died at an

early period, and as she left no issue, he adopted a son and a daughter

from a foundling asylum.

But who would have thought it, the boy also died, and there only

remained the girl, known as Kó Ch'ing in her infancy, who when she grew

up, was beautiful in face and graceful in manners, and who by reason of

some relationship with the Chia family, was consequently united by the

ties of marriage (to one of the household).

Ch'in Pang-yeh was in his fiftieth year when he at length got this son.

As his tutor had the previous year left to go south, he remained at home

keeping up his former lessons; and (his father) had been just thinking

of talking over the matter with his relatives of the Chia family, and

sending his son to the private school, when, as luck would have it, this

opportunity of meeting Pao-yü presented itself.

Knowing besides that the family school was under the direction of the

venerable scholar Chia Tai-ju, and hoping that by joining his class,

(his son) might advance in knowledge and by these means reap reputation,

he was therefore intensely gratified. The only drawbacks were that his

official emoluments were scanty, and that both the eyes of everyone in

the other establishment were set upon riches and honours, so that he

could not contribute anything short of the amount (given by others); but

his son's welfare throughout life was a serious consideration, and he,

needless to say, had to scrape together from the East and to collect

from the West; and making a parcel, with all deference, of twenty-four

taels for an introduction present, he came along with Ch'in Chung to

Tai-ju's house to pay their respects. But he had to wait subsequently

until Pao-yü could fix on an auspicious date on which they could

together enter the school.

As for what happened after they came to school, the next chapter will

divulge.