to learn casts the shadow called
instability--" giggle and much talking. I am afraid they will never arrive
at the shadow cast the love of truth, and after I have written thee I will
go in and help them, that they may not be reprimanded.

Li-ti takes her duties now most seriously, these same duties
consisting of dressing for the day. In the morning she seats herself
before her mirror, and two maids attend her, one to hold the great
brass bowl of water, the other to hand her the implements of her toilet.
While the face is warm she covers it with honey mixed with perfume,
and applies the rice-powder until her face is as white as the rice itself.
Then the cheeks are rouged, the touch of red is placed upon the lower
lip, the eyebrows are shaped like the true willow leaf, and the hair is
dressed. Her hair is wonderful (but I say within, my hearty not so long
or so thick as mine), and she adorn it with many jewels of jade and
pearls. Over her soft clothing of fine linen she draws the rich
embroidered robes of silk and satin. Then her jewels, earrings, beads,
bracelets, rings, the tiny mirror in the embroidered case, the bag with
its rouge and powder fastened to her side by long red tassels. When
all things are in place, she rises a being glorified, a thing of beauty
from her glossy hair to the toe of her tiny embroidered shoe. I watch
her with a little envy, because when thou wast here I did the same.
Now that my husband is away, it is not meet that I make myself too
seemly for other eyes. The rouge brush and the powder have not been
near my face, and I have searched my clothing chests to find gowns
fitting for a woman who is alone.

Thy Mother says poor Li-ti is o'ervain, and repeats to her the saying,
"More precious in a woman is a virtuous heart than a face of beauty."
But I say she is our butterfly, she brings the joys of summer. One
must not expect a lace kerchief to hold tears, and she fulfills her
woman's destiny. Chih-peh, thy brother, is inexpressibly happy. He
adores his pretty blossom. He follows her with eyes worship, and
when she is in disgrace with thine August Mother, he is desolate.
When needs be she is sent to her apartment, he wanders round and
round the courtyards until the Honourable One has retired from sight,
then he hurriedly goes to his beloved. Soon I hear them laughing
gaily, and know the storm is over.

The rains have come and we cannot pass long days upon the terrace.
The whole valley is shroude