he me in their perfume to give
me beauty that will hold thee close to me.

I am,
Thy Wife.

19.
My Dear One,
I have received thy letter telling me thou wilt not be here until the
summer comes. Then, I must tell thee my news, as the springtime is
here, the flowers are budding, the grass is green, soon the plum-tree
in the courtyard will be white. I am jealous of this paper that will see
the delight and joy in thine eyes. In the evening I watch the rice boats
pass along the canal, where the water is green and silvery like the
new leaves of the willow, and I say, "Perhaps when you return, I shall
be the mother of a child." Ah--! I have told thee. Does it bring thee
happiness, my lord? Does it make a quick little catch in thy breath?
Does thy pulse quicken at the thought that soon thou wilt be a father?

[Illustration: Mylady12.]

Thou wilt never know what this has meant to me. It has made the
creature live that was within my soul, and my whole being is bathed
with its glory. Thou wilt never know how many times I have gone down
the pathway to the temple and asked this great boon of our Lady of
Mercy. She granted it, and my life is made perfect. I am indeed a
woman, fulfilling a woman's destiny. If a woman bear not sons for her
lord, what worth her life? Do we not know that the first of the seven
causes for putting away a wife is that she brings no sons into the
world to worship at the graves of her husband's ancestors? But I,
Kwei-li, that will not be said of me.

Sometimes I think, "If something should happen; if the Gods should
be jealous of my happiness and I should not see thee more?" Then
the heart of the woman throbs with fear, and I throw myself at the feet
of Kwan-yin and beg for strength. She gives me peace and brings to
my remembrance that the bond of fate is sealed within the moon.
There is no place for fear, for aught but love; my heart is filled so with
its happiness.

Thy Wife.

20
My Dear One,
The spring has come, and with it some new pulse of life beats through
my quiet veins. I spend long hours upon the terrace, breathing in the
perfume of the many flowers. The cherry-blossoms are a glory. The
whole steep hillside is covered with a fairy lace, as if some God knew
how we hungered after beauty and gave us these pink blossoms to
help us to forget the bare cold earth of winter.

It is the time of praying, and all the women with their candles and their
incense are bending knees and chanting pr