So they stepped across the lawn together.  It was to Dong-Yung as if she stepped into an unknown land.  She walked on flat green grass.  Flowers in stiff and ordered rows went sedately round and round beneath a lurid red brick wall.  A strange, square-cornered, flat-topped house squatted in the midst of the flat green grass.  On the lawn at one side was a white-covered table, with a man and a woman sitting beside it.  The four corners of the table-cloth dripped downward to the flat green grass.  It was all very strange and ugly.  Perhaps it was a garden, but no one would have guessed it.  Dong-Yung longed to put each flower plant in a dragon bowl by itself and place it where the sun caught its petals one by one as the hours flew by.  She longed for a narrow, tile-edged patch to guide her feet through all that flat green expanse.  A little shiver ran over her.  She looked back, down the wide gravelled way, through the gate, where the gate-keeper sat, tipped back against the wall on his stool, to the shop of the money-changer’s opposite.  A boy leaned half across the polished wood counter and shook his fist in the face of the money-changer.  “Thou thief!” he cried.  “Give me my two cash!” Dong-Yung was reassured.  Around her lay all the dear familiar things; at her side walked her lord and master.  And he had said they were seeking a new freedom, a God of love.  Her thoughts stirred at her heart and caught her breath away.

The foreigners rose to greet them.  Dong-Yung touched the hand of an alien man.  She did not like it at all.  The foreign-born woman made her sit down beside her, and offered her bitter, strong tea in delicate, lidless cups, with handles bent like a twisted flower-branch.

“I have been meaning to call for a long time, Mrs. Li,” said the foreign-born woman.

“The great wife will receive thee with much honour,” Dong-Yung answered.

“I am so glad you came with your husband.”

“Yes,” Dong-Yung answered, with a little smile.  “The customs of the foreign-born are pleasant to our eyes.”

“I am glad you like them,” said the foreign-born woman.  “I couldn’t bear not to go everywhere with my husband.”

Dong-Yung liked her suddenly on account of the look that sprang up a moment in her eyes and vanished again.  She looked across at the priest, her husband, a man in black, with thin lips and seeing eyes.  The eyes of the foreign woman, looking at the priest, her husband, showed how much she loved him.  “She loves him even as a small wife loves,” Dong-Yung thought to herself.  Dong-Yung watched the two men, the one in imperial yellow, the one in black, sitting beside each other and talking.  Dong-Yung knew they were talking of the search.  The foreign-born woman was speaking to her again.

“The doctor told me I would die if I came to China, but John felt he had a call.  I would not stand in his way.”

The woman’s face was illumined.

“And now you are very happy?” Dong-Yung announced.