future partner of the glass of fashion and the mould of form.  Fifty different days and hours were fixed as the appointed time.  All the most noted bonzes in Pekin were in turn declared to be the fortunate sacred instrument by which the union was to be effected.  In the course of a week, public feeling reached such a height that business was neglected and property declined in value.  A panic was feared.  Mien-yaun shut himself up, and did not stir abroad for a month, lest he should be tracked, and his secret discovered.  He contrived, however, to maintain a constant correspondence with the light of his soul.

He was a little disturbed to find that his much revered father, the ex-censor of the highest board, took no notice of what was going on, and never alluded to the subject in any manner.  Mien-yaun was too deeply impressed with a sense of filial obligation to intrude his humble affairs upon the old gentleman’s

[Transcriber’s note:  Page missing in original.]

There were lanterns—­without number, and of the largest size; there were the richest and most luxurious couches disposed about for the general comfort; there were consultations of cooks, headed by a professor from Ning-po, a city famed throughout China for its culinary perfection, with a view to producing an unrivalled gastronomic sensation; there were tailors who tortured their inventive brains to realize the ideal raiment which Mien-yaun desired to appear in.  The panic ceased as suddenly as it had arisen.  A little while ago, and there was a surplus of supply and no demand; now, the demand far exceeded the supply.  Artists in apparel were driven frantic.  In three days the entire fashionable world of Pekin had to be new clad, and well clad, for the great occasion.  One tailor, in despair at his inability to execute more than the tenth of his commissions, went and drowned himself in the Peiho River, a proceeding which did not at all diminish the public distress.  The loss of the tailor was nothing, to be sure, but his death was a fatal blow to the hopes of at least a hundred of the first families.  As for the women, they were beside themselves, and knew not which way to turn.  It was evident that nothing had occurred within a half-century to create anything like the excitement that existed.  Mien-yaun’s prospects of eternal potency never seemed so cheering.

All this time, our hero’s father, the ex-censor of the highest board, preserved a profound silence.

VI.

The three days passed so rapidly, that even Mien-yaun’s anxiety, great as it was, could hardly keep pace with the swift hours.  The morning of the New Year came.  For the first time in his life, the dictator of fashion lost his mind.  His head whirled like a tee-to-tum, and his pulses beat sharp and irregular as the detonations of a bundle of crackers.  He was obliged to resign himself to fate and his valet, and felt compelled to have recourse to many cups of tea to calm his fevered senses.  At length it became necessary for him to descend to the gardens.  Nerving himself by a powerful effort, he advanced among his guests.