her black hair was interwoven with the creamy blossoms of the
_chu-sha-kih_; her robes of pale silk took shifting tints when she
moved, as vapors change hue with the changing of the light.

"If I be not mistaken," she said, when both had seated themselves after
having exchanged the customary formalities of politeness, "my honored
visitor is none other than Tien-chou, surnamed Ming-Y, educator of the
children of my respected relative, the High Commissioner Tchang. As the
family of Lord Tchang is my family also, I cannot but consider the
teacher of his children as one of my own kin."

"Lady," replied Ming-Y, not a little astonished, "may I dare to inquire
the name of your honored family, and to ask the relation which you hold
to my noble patron?"

"The name of my poor family," responded the comely lady, "is _Ping_,--an
ancient family of the city of Tching-tou. I am the daughter of a certain
Sië of Moun-hao; Sië is my name, likewise; and I was married to a young
man of the Ping family, whose name was Khang. By this marriage I became
related to your excellent patron; but my husband died soon after our
wedding, and I have chosen this solitary place to reside in during the
period of my widowhood."

There was a drowsy music in her voice, as of the melody of brooks, the
murmurings of spring; and such a strange grace in the manner of her
speech as Ming-Y had never heard before. Yet, on learning that she was a
widow, the youth would not have presumed to remain long in her presence
without a formal invitation; and after having sipped the cup of rich tea
presented to him, he arose to depart. Sië would not suffer him to go so
quickly.