knock on the door, and the old woman entered, saying:

"This is the tenth day."

"I thank the ma-ma for recalling the fact to us," he answered. "I was on the point of paying her a visit."

And, taking up the bag, he poured the three hundred ounces on to the table. The old woman had not supposed he could succeed.

She changed color, and seemed on the point of gainsaying her word. So Shih-niang said; "I have stayed in your house for a long time, and have brought in several thousands of ounces. To-day I am marrying. If you do not keep your word, I shall commit suicide before you, and you will lose the money and the girl."

The old woman could find no words to express her feeling. She took the money in silence, and finally muttered:

"If you mean to go away, you go now. But you shall take none of your clothes or jewels with you."

Hustling the two young people along, she led them through the door and shot the bolt.

It was then the ninth moon, and the weather was cold. Shih-niang had but just risen from bed, and was not dressed; nor was her hair done. Yet she saluted the ma-ma with two genuflexions. La Chia shook his two hands joined together. Thus the married pair left that not too pleasant old woman:

In front of the door La Chia said to his mistress:

"Wait a moment! I will call a little palankeen to take you to the house of Liu."

She answered:

"In this very court are my friends, my sisters, who have always been in sympathy with me.

"I must take leave of them; and I cannot neglect to thank them for the money they have lent me."

Accompanied by her Lord, she went to each pavilion to greet her friends. Now, one of them, Yuch-lang, was a very close friend of Shih-niang, so, seeing that she had not done her hair, she led her to her own toilet-table, and ran to call another friend, Hsu Su-Su. Then she took from her coffers many ornaments of king-fisher leather and bracelets and jasper pins, even embroidered robes and girdles ornamented with phoenix. She gave them to Shih-niang, over-coming her with gratitude.

She also ordered a feast of congratulation, to which all their friends were invited, and finally, at the end of day, offered the pair a bed for the night.

When she was alone with Li Chia, Shih-niang asked:

"Where shall we go when we have left the capital? Has my Lord made a decision on this point?"

"My father," he answered, "is still angry with me. If, in addition, he learns that I have married my Little-Sister, and that I am coming back with her, he will doubtless be carried quite away by rage. I have not found a satisfactory plan."

"Your father has feelings from Heaven. He could not break completely with you. Would it not be better for us to go to him, and to keep to our boat while you pray your friends to go and ask for a harmonious reconciliation? After that, leading your slave, you may re-enter your dwelling in peace."

"That is an excellent plan," he answered.

Next day they thanked Yuch-lang again, and went to the house of Liu. On seeing the learned man, Shih-niang knelt down to express her gratitude to him, saying:

"Later we may both know how to return your kindness."

Liu hastened to answer, according to the polite formality:

"Your admirable sentiment far exceeds my most poor action. You are a heroine among women. Why, then, do you hang such words to your/teeth?"

All day the three of them drank wine of joy. Then the pair chose a suitable day for their journey, and obtained horses and palankeens. When the time for their departure drew near, Yuch-lang, Hsu-Su, and all those friends came to bear the couple company. Yuch-lang sent her servants to bring a metal casket, furnished with a golden lock, and gave it to Shih-niang, who placed it in her palankeen without opening it.

The porters and servants urged the travelers forward, and they started. Liu and the beautiful women escorted them as far as the other side of the Ch'ung-wen gate, and there they drank a last cup together. They separated with tears.

When they reached the river Lu, Li Chia and Shih-niang abandoned the land way and hired a cabin in a large junk which was going to Kua-chow. After he had paid their passage in advance, there was only a single piece of bronze left in Li Chia's bag; the twenty ounces which Shih-niang had given him had vanished as if they had never been. The young man had not been able to avoid giving certain presents, and he had also bought blankets and other necessities for the journey. Sadly he asked himself what to be done, but she said to him:

"My Lord may cease to disturb himself. Our friends have given yet more help."

She opened her metal casket, while he looked on in shame. She took out a red silk bag and put it on the table, bidding him open it. He found the bag heavy; for, in fact, it contained fifty ounces of silver. Shih-niang had already shut the casket again, without saying what further was in it, now she said smilingly:

"Have not our sisters the most desirable instinct? They did not wish us to have any difficulty on our journey, and in this way they enable us to cross mountains and rivers."

Li Chia exclaimed in his delight and surprise:

"If I had not met such generosity, I should have had no choice but to wander, and at last to die without burial. Even when my hair turns white, I shall not forget such virtue and such friendship."

And he shed tears of emotion, until Shih-niang consoled him by, diverting his thoughts.

Some days later they reached Kua-chow, where the big junk stopped. But Li Chia was now able to hire a smaller vessel for themselves alone, and in this he stowed their baggage. On the morrow they were to travel across the great river.

It was then the second quarter of the second month of winter. The moon shone like water. The pair were sitting on the deck of the junk, and the boy said:

"Since we left the capital we have not been able to talk freely, because we were in a cabin and our neighbors could hear us. Now we are alone on our own junk. Also, we have left the cold of the North and will to-morrow be on the south side of the river. Is it not a fitting time to drink and rejoice, so as to forget our former sorrows? You to whom I owe so much, what do you say?"

"It is now long since your slave was deprived of little pleasantries and laughters, and she had the same sentiment as yourself. Your words prove that we have but one soul."

They brought wine on deck; and, seated on a carpet beside his mistress, he offered her cups.

So they drank joyously, until they were a little drunk; and at length he said:

"O my benefactress, your voice of marvel used to trouble the six theatres. Every time I heard you then, my spirit took wing from me. It is long since you have overcome me in that way. The moon is bright over the shimmering river. The night is deep and solitary. Will you not consent to favor me with a song?"

For a little, Shih-niang refused. Then she looked at the moon, and a song escaped her. It was an affecting melody, taken from one of the pieces of the Yuan dynasty, called "The Light Rose of the Peaches." In truth:

Shih-niang sang. And in a near-by junk there was a young man called Sun; his first name was Fu, Rich, and his surname was Shan-lai, Excellent-in-Promise. His family was one of the wealthiest in Hsin-an of Hui-chow; his ancestors had owned the salt monopoly in Yang-chow. He was just twenty years old, and had moulded his character in accordance with his passion, being a regular visitor at the blue pavilions, where the smiles of painted roses are to be bought. He