That night Su-ling met him again at the Five-Storey Pagoda. Wong-ko's step was elastic. His eyes shone with happi

ness.

"I have been on a visit to my maternal uncle," he began before they were seated. "I have made friends with him. I find he has a delicate taste in girls. When in Hongkong on business he spends his spare hours at the Hongkong Hotel, sipping cups of tea while he watches the dancing. He is an authority on the latest cut in gowns and the latest quirks in dances. He has gathered many a story to astonish his friends on what he calls the "undress" of modern women. He is past fifty, but he has an eye for all that there is to be seen. He saw you not long ago-in a wisp of green chiffon. He says you are a beauty, but he can't imagine how your family will get you a husband since you have exposed yourself in that way. The crux of the matter is my fat uncle is out for all the excitement that life holds for a man-but strong on old-fashioned seclusion for his own womenfolk.

"He is quite definite on that point. He wouldn't marry a girl who had ever made what he calls a public spectacle of herself —that is, a girl who dressed as modern girls dress or danced. Dancing he views simply as a sensual circling of a room in a man's arms."

"In all--he is a nasty-minded old hypocrite." Su-ling had been awakened to deep love for her cousin by this intimate description of the man she was doomed to marry.

"Exactly-but-here is what I have worked out. If he can see Mai-lui dressed as you girls dress, dancing Western dances in public with a man, he won't marry her."

"How is all that to be brought about?" "I can arrange the dance at Samshui-an orchestra from Hongkong. Our crowd will follow an orchestra anywhere. I will tell them I want to do some advance work and wake up the sleepy town. They needn't know about my interest in Mai-lui. Uncle will come and look on with keen delight."

party already gathering from far and near and the feast over which the women have toiled for days?"

"I shouldn't disarrange that-women like festivities. Let my uncle see his brideto-be disporting herself on the weddingeve. He is in the midst of a large silk deal with Mai-lui's father which means a lot to him. He will be frightfully upset, but he won't want to spoil his business. I will present myself as the humble nephew willing to sacrifice myself for my exalted uncle. I will take his place in the ceremonies, and the Ping family won't know it until the marriage-cup has been drunk. He is a selfish old thing and will accept my offer."

"But does Mai-lui love you? I grant that you are better than your uncle you will treat her with modern sense-but I won't help you unless she loves you."

Wong-ko took a broken bracelet out of his pocket. "She sent me this after she went away."

Su-ling's heart was a lump of ice in her throat, but she nodded her head understandingly.

The Tchang family arrived at the Ping dwelling the morning of Mai-lui's wedding-eve. They found relatives already. assembled there from far and near. Everything stood ready for the wedding procession on the morrow. There were sixtythree chests of carved cedar-wood filled with rich garments of brocade, fur, and satin-enough to last a lifetime in the China of permanent fashion. In addition to Mai-lui's trousseau there was a complete outfit for every woman in the household into which she was to go.

The furniture for her own apartments stood ready-choice lacquer and blackwood. Two cases of heirloom jewels were openly displayed to dazzle the guests. The air was heavy with the odors of many elaborate foodstuffs.

The wedding-dress fashioned of stiff red satin and stitched with symbolic golden threads, so that it would stand alone, was complete after four years of toil over its embroideries. Beside it stood red velvet slippers with gold threads worked over the

"That's right."

Su-ling never quite knew how she accomplished it, but she succeeded in dressing her cousin in a set of her own crêpe-deChine undergarments, flesh stockings, and the wispy dress of jade chiffon. Mai-lui refused to have her hair shingled, but it was wound tightly about her head in a smooth coronet. Su-ling pinked the tips of her cousin's dainty ears and hung jade drops in the lobes. Luckily, a pair of highheeled satin pumps fitted Mai-lui.

Wrapped in long Chinese coats, they went to the dance. Neither cousin spoke of Wong-ko, but Su-ling knew that Mailui risked disgrace on her wedding-eve because of the hope of seeing him just once

more.

Mai-lui dropped her cloak. She danced with partners from Canton. She listened to the compliments they poured into her ears but her eyes searched the room for Wong-ko.

Su-ling saw Wong-ko enter the room, accompanied by a large, gross man, when Mai-lui danced with a tall youth. She had an instant of fear that Mai-lui might recognize her fiancé. But Mai-lui had seen him only once from the back. She had no thought of him now-her thoughts were with Wong-ko.

Mai-lui missed step with her partner -she smiled directly at the doorway through which the two men came. She smiled with unconscious "come-hither" in her eyes. Wong-ko returned her smile with a curt nod. His uncle leaned forward with an answering leer on his face, but Mai-lui's eyes smarted with tears so that she did not see.

Then Su-ling saw her cousin throw herself into a frenzy of gaiety. For the first time in her life Mai-lui lost all reserve. She flirted openly with every partner, exaggerating the seductiveness of every waltz. She danced the Charleston with a man Su-ling neither liked nor trusted, in the middle of the empty floor, while the crowd applauded.

Su-ling's nerves were taut as violin strings before they were safely back within the compound walls.

They undressed without speech and lay down-each to her own thoughts. When

crept across the courtyard and went into the room where her wedding-finery lay ready. Su-ling followed and saw her take the wedding-garments up one by oneshe saw her drop the band of red satin with a shudder.

Su-ling was on the bed feigning sleep when Mai-lui returned. A gentle hand sought Su-ling's, a slim, soft body cuddled close like a kitten.

"I am afraid-I am afraid,” Mai-lui sobbed. "Su-ling, I cannot bear to go."

Su-ling drew her cousin close. A mad desire to go in Mai-lui's place surged through her mind. 'Her quick wit flashed over the possible success of such a venture. Her common sense discarded the idea. Wong-ko would be caught in his own trap-but he wanted Mai-lui.

Su-ling could not utter words of comfort to Mai-lui. The latter sobbed until they took her away to dress her in the robes of ceremony. Red and swollen of face from weeping, she was sealed in the gorgeous wedding-chair sent for her by her betrothed husband-a chair with a mirror on top to ward off evil spirits.

With pomp and ceremony she left her familiar home to meet a new life. Crowds lined the streets to watch the procession pass. A military band, loaned by the governor of the province, playing Western tunes, broke a way through the streets. One hundred coolies, clad in brilliantly embroidered robes, carried the bride's possessions-her trousseau, her furniture, her gifts of food for the household into which she was to enter, and her wedding-presents. Two hundred banner-bearers, waving aloft streamers of red satin, decorated with gold characters, gave added glory. A native band of stringed instruments brought up the rear.

The fact that Mai-lui Ping drank the marriage-cup in the dwelling of her betrothed with his nephew, Wong-ko T'ien, and not with the shrewd silk merchant, Sung-chang Wai, furnished a theme for tea-shop minstrels throughout the whole of China.

Heavy darkness lay like a mantle of thick black velvet over south China on the night of Mai-lui's marriage. Su-ling, seeking with sensitive bare feet and outstretched hands, unchained the gates and

found the lowest landing-step of the Tchang dwelling.

The river gurgled an invitation, lapping cool caresses about her fevered ankles.

Mad dreams tortured her-the dreams of a vivid imagination playing in a tired brain. Wong-ko's kiss on Mai-lui's lipsthe kiss which Su-ling had known one moonlight night on board ship. The light that shone always on Wong-ko's familiar face when he shared some thoughtthoughts that he would now share only with Mai-lui. Pictures of Mai-lui with Wong-ko's child in the curve of her armhis head bent above her. Side by side with these visions played the picture of barren years-years to be tortured with the pain of friendship with Wong-ko and Mai-lui.

The river was the way of forgetfulness. Many an ancestor in the past had walked that path into another world.

Su-ling raised her hands above her head, as she had seen divers do, and rose on her toes. She was glad that she had never succeeded in learning to swim at college-ignorance would shorten her journey now.

A momentary silence hushed all the creatures of the night-then the Oriental sun, in all the glory of sudden tropic dawn, burst the curtains of the night;

and before Su-ling stretched a myriad of her name-flowers, opening to the morning light.

Entranced, she watched the buds unfold to the kiss of day. Slowly the outer sepals loosed their hold-the first layer of petals gleamed pure white, the second layer had a flush of shell pink which deepened toward the centre. She forgot her pain in the midst of beauty, and waited breathlessly for each blossom to expose its golden heart to the sun.

Lifted on sturdy green stocks, above glossy green leaves, the lotus blossoms had no touch of the slimy mud of the riverbottom through which they had passed in the process of growth.

Su-ling sank down on the steps and lifted her face to the sky as unconsciously as the flowers about her. Some time later she took a typed letter from her pocket— it was the offer of a position in the Nationalist party publicity office. She composed a letter of acceptance and planned her career.

Lui, the old gateman, investigating the open gates, found his young mistress sitting on the landing-steps, her pajamas, of forbidden imperial yellow, wet far above the knees with the swirl of the river's current. On a level with her head stretched an expanse of summer lotus blossoms.

RS. PARKER presided over the breakfasttable, her plump hands hovering about the percolator, and her solicitous glance alternating between her husband and Grace Ann. To cajole her daughter's elusive appetite, and to surprise Edward with the muffins he liked best, were joys that made her placid face luminous. Mr. Parker's emptied cup had scarcely touched the saucer before she reached for it. "Well, daddy, what's the news this morning?"

"The usual thing." Mr. Parker folded his out-of-town paper gravely. "A number of young people caught in the weekend raids. Some of them from good families, too."

Mrs. Parker made a clicking noise against her teeth.

"Reverend Bridges was saying, just yesterday, that if all homes were like well-like ours, such sad things wouldn't happen to young people."

"Pass the muffins, please, mama." Grace Ann lifted her eyes sweetly to her mother's face. They were large, pale eyes, like Mrs. Parker's own. Her red lips, at once soft and wilful, and her curling yellow hair, were part of a young girl's prettiness which Mrs. Parker had once

shared.

"Don't forget to eat your egg, dear. He says we haven't any idea of what goes on, living in a quiet place like this."

"Well, it's bad; but some ministers worry more than they need to." Mr. Parker pressed his lips together in a judicial manner. "I think Bridges is one of them."

"Why, Edward!" Mrs. Parker was mildly reproachful. "It's because he knows. He was right about Nan Morgan before the rest of us even guessed."

day?"

"The Ladies' Aid meets this afternoon, Edward."

"School for you, of course, baby. How about a movie to-night?"

Grace Ann looked up quickly.

"I can't, daddy." Then because her voice sounded too vehement in her own ears, she added mildly: "I've got to go to the libarry to-night to look up stuff. Excuse me, please, mama. I've got to hurry."

She slipped about the table noiselessly, her hair making a bright curtain as she bent to kiss her mother.

"Right on the bald spot, daddy."

Before he could reach her she was gone. "Too-de-loo," she called from the doorway. "You always forget, daddy. You must say Pip-pip."

"Pip-pip," repeated Mr. Parker obediently.

She waved gaily and disappeared down the hall.

"I was sorry I mentioned the Morgan girl." Mrs. Parker's eyes filled with tears. It always happened in moments of strain, as in the sad scenes at the movies. "Grace Ann liked her so much. Of course we all did."

"It couldn't be helped, mother." Her husband rose and stretched comfortably. Why, you haven't finished your coffee."