r the man of medicine from the Eastern Gate, and he
wished to burn her shoulders with a heated cash to remove the heat
within her. To this she objected so strongly that he hastily gathered
his utensils and departed looking fearfully over his shoulder from time
to time as he passed quickly down the hillside.

Then I thought of her favourite priest from the monastery down below,
and sent for him. He came with candle and incense and, I think, some
rose wine for which the monastery is justly famous; and he chanted
prayers, striking from time to time a little gong, until peace was
restored and sleep came to her eyelids.

[Illustration: Mylady07.]

In the morning she wished to talk to Li-ti; but I feared for her, and I
said, "You cannot speak of the ocean to a well-frog, nor sing of ice to
a summer insect. She will not understand. She said Li-ti was without
brains, a senseless thing of paint and powder. I said, "We will form
her, we will make of her a wise woman in good time. She replied with
bitterness, "Rotten wood cannot be carved nor walls of dirt be
plastered." I could not answer, but I sent Li-ti to pass the day with
Chih-peh at the Goldfish Temple, and when she returned the time was
not so stormy.

All this made me unhappy, and the cares of this great household
pressed heavily upon my shoulders. Please do not think the cares too
heavy, nor that I do not crave the work. I know all labour is done for
the sake of happiness, whether the happiness comes or no; and if I
find not happiness, I find less time to dream and mourn and long for
thee, my husband.

Thy Wife.

10
My Dear One,
We have been to a great festival at the Temple of the Goddess of a
Thousand Hands. Thine Honourable Mother decided that we should go
by boat part of the way, so the chairs were told to meet us at the
Western Village Rest-house.

We hired from the city one of those great pleasure-boats, but it was
not too great for us all. There was the August One, and four of her
friends, then Li-ti, Mah-li and myself. We took the cook, the steward
and three amahs, and it was indeed a time of feasting. It was the first
time I had been upon the canal, and it was different from seeing it
from the terrace. As we passed slowly along we could watch the life
of the water people. On the banks were the great water-wheels turned
by the village buffalo. In the deserted districts women were gathering
reeds to make the sleeping mats and boat covers. The villages