An ecstasy of contemplation ravished his senses.

"Goodness, Uncle Edward," Nettie exclaimed, "you scared me, you looked so
like a Chinee."

"There are no such people," he retorted sharply, exasperated by the
vulgar error. She was undismayed; and when, in reply to the question, she
learned that he had been at the Ammidons' her surprise increased his
irritation. He saw from her manner that his calling there had been at
least unexpected. Nettie interrupted the preparation of the table for
breakfast, and dropped into a chair beyond him, her hands--the sleeves
were rolled back to her elbows--clasped before her.

"You must tell me everything," she declared eagerly. "What is she like?
Do they seem happy? Did he hold her hand? Do Chinese women kiss? Is she
tall or--"

"I can't remember a question out of your rattle," he interrupted her. He
was about to give expression to his admiration for Taou Yuen, when he
stopped, with tight lips. Here, perhaps, was the lever by which so much
was to be shifted.

"She's Chinese," he said indifferently, "and that means yellow." Nettie
made a gesture of distaste. "They seem to get along well enough. Of
course, it's ridiculous to call it a marriage, and it seems to me very
questionable to impose it on the Ammidons as that. The thing is--how
long will it last, how soon will he get tired of her and send her back
to Canton?"