"Need you tell me this!" Ma, the Taoist matron, at these words, remarked
with a view to ascertain what she implied. "Haven't I, forsooth,
discovered it all for myself? Yet it's fortunate that you don't trouble
your minds about her; for it's far better that you should let her have
her own way."

"My dear woman," rejoined Mrs. Chao, "Not let her have her own way! why,
is it likely that any one would have the courage to tell her anything?"

"I don't mean to utter any words that may bring upon me retribution,"
added Ma, the Taoist matron, "but you people haven't got the wits. But
it's no matter of surprise. Yet if you daren't openly do anything, why,
you could stealthily have devised some plan. And do you still tarry up
to this day?"

Mrs. Chao realised that there lurked something in her insinuation, and
she felt an inward secret joy. "What plan could I stealthily devise?"
she asked. "I've got the will right enough, but I'm not a person gifted
with this sort of gumption. So were you to impart to me some way or
other, I would reward you most liberally."

When the Taoist matron, Ma, heard this, she drew near to her.
"O-mi-to-fu! desist at once from asking me!" she designedly exclaimed.
"How can I know anything about such matters, contrary as they are to
what is right?"

"There you are again!" Mrs. Chao replied. "You're one ever most ready to
succour those in distress, and to help those in danger, and is it likely
that you'll quietly look on, while some one comes and compasses my death
as well as that of my son? Are you, pray, fearful lest I shouldn't give