What a gorgeous array of rank and beauty was there!  The customary calls of the New Year had been forgotten.  Curiosity had alike infected all, and the traditionary commemoration of two thousand years was for the first time neglected.  Why this tremor at our hero’s heart?  Was he not lord of all that he surveyed?  Reigned he not yet with undisputed sway?  Or was it that, an undefined presentiment of dire misfortune had settled upon him?  He strove to banish his melancholy, but with slight success.

His troubled air did not escape the scrutinizing eyes of the company.  The women whispered; the men shook their heads.  But all greeted him with enthusiasm, and asked after his bride with eagerness.

A crash of gongs was heard.  The gates of a pavilion flew open, and the beauteous Ching-ki-pin stepped forth, glowing with loveliness and hope.  As she stood an instant timidly on the portal, she seemed almost a divinity,—­at least, Mien-yaun thought so.  Her sweet face was surmounted by a heavy coronet of black hair, plaited to perfection, and glistening with gum.  Her little eyes beamed lovingly on her betrothed, and a flush of expectancy overspread her countenance.  Her costume was in the best Chinese taste.  An embroidered tunic of silk fell from her neck almost to her ankles, and just temptingly revealed the spangled trowsers and the richly jewelled slippers.  A murmur of admiration diffused itself around.  Then followed many anxious inquiries.  Who was she?  Whence came she?  To whom belonged she?  Her face was strange to all that high-born throng.  In a minute, however, her father appeared, bearing on his arm the Antique, who looked more hideous than ever.  A flash of intelligence quivered through the multitude.  Many of the nobility purchased their porcelain and tobacco of Tching-whang, and recognized him immediately.  It is astonishing how like lightning unpleasant facts do fly.  In less than two minutes, every soul in the gardens knew that Mien-yaun, the noble, the princely, the loftily-descended, the genteel, was going to marry a tradesman’s daughter.

Now that the great secret was out, everybody had thought so.  Some had been sure of it.  Others had told you so.  It was the most natural thing in the world.  Where there was so much mystery, there must, of necessity, be some peculiar reason for it.  A great many had always thought him a little crazy.  In fact, the whole tide of public sentiment instantly turned.  Mien-yaun, without knowing it, was dethroned.  Upstarts, who that morning had trembled at his frown, and had very properly deemed themselves unworthy to braid his tail, now swept by him with swaggering insolence, as if to compensate in their new-found freedom for the years of social enslavement they had been subjected to.  Leers and shrugs and spiteful whispers circulated extensively.  But the enraptured Mien-yaun, blind to everything except his own overwhelming happiness, saw and heard them not.