uniforms stood at the door. Then again gongs sounded.

Three mandarins in robes of silk, their buttons of rank glittering in
their caps, came down the wide pathway, as though to meet the visitors,
before whose chairs little Sky-High walked. One of them, a stately man,
nearly seven feet high, suddenly spread out his arms; whereupon Sky-High
rushed forward, prostrated himself, and was almost wrapped from sight,
as he was lifted in the immense sleeves of silk and gold.

Mr. Van Buren was now truly filled with amazement. Little Sky-High's
mistress was terrified. The children didn't know exactly what to think,
sitting together in their sedan, only that they were glad to see the
tall mandarin enfold their own dear Sky-High in his flowing silk robes!
Little Lucy was half crying. "I believe, I do believe, that he _was_
a wang all the time!" she at last said to Charlie.

The palace was wonderful. Strange lamps hung over them as they passed
in. There were beautiful couches and chairs, with gilded arms and silken
cushions. The walls were set with carvings and perforated work. Here
hung bars of musical bells; there stood great jars and vases; everywhere
were fantastic furnishings of silks and costly metals. Feathery green
bamboos grew in dragon pots. In the corners stood grotesque figures in
armor.

The lamps in their golden lattices burst into soft flame.

"Unaccountable!" said Mr. Van Buren to himself. "Sky-High would hardly
be better welcomed were he the wang that Lucy dreamed him to be!"

"Mandarin of Boston," said the tall Chinaman, with an obeisance the like