“What has the child done?” he asked.

Now the law of China is, that parents shall not be restrained from beating and abusing their children as often and as soundly as is convenient.  The great principle of filial piety knows no reciprocity.  Should a child occasionally be killed, the payment of a small fine will satisfy the accommodating spirit of the authorities.  The ill-favored mother was not, therefore, in any way bound to answer this somewhat abrupt question; but, observing the appearance of high gentility, and touched by the engaging manner of the interrogator, she answered, that her appetite had of late been uncertain, and that she was endeavoring to restore it by a little wholesome exercise.

So reasonable an explanation admitted of no reply; and Mien-yaun was about to resume his way with a sigh, when the young lady insinuated a third osculatory hint, more penetrating than either of the others, and bestowed on him, besides, a most ravishing smile.  He fluttered internally, but succeeded in preserving his outward immobility.  He entered into conversation with the elderly female, observing that it was a fine day, and that it promised to continue so, although destiny was impenetrable, and clouds might overshadow the radiant face of Nature at any unexpected moment.  To these and other equally profound and original remarks the old woman graciously assented, and finally invited the young gentleman to partake of a cup of scau-tcheou.  Now scau-tcheou, which is the most ardent of Chinese spirits, was Mien-yaun’s abomination; but he concealed his disgust, and quietly observed that he should prefer a cup of tea.

The old woman was delighted, and ran off to prepare the desired refreshment, so that Mien-yaun was at length rewarded by the opportunity of a few private words with the daughter.

“Tell me, Miss,” said he,—­“why did the sweetest of lips perform their most delicate office when the brightest of eyes first turned upon me?”

The young lady, confused and blushing, answered, that the brilliancy of the jewel which Mien-yaun wore in his hat had dazzled her vision, and that she mistook him for an intimate friend of her youth,—­that was all.

He knew this was a lie; but as lying was in exact accordance with the elementary principles laid down by the learned Kei-ying, he was rather pleased by it.  Moreover, it was a very pretty lie, worthy of so pretty a girl; and Mien-yaun, whose wits were fast leaving him, removed the jewel from his hat, and begged the maiden to accept it.  She, declaring that she never could think of such a thing, deposited it in her bosom.  Evidently the twain were on the brink of love; a gentle push only was needed to submerge them.