They would have been glad to move their houses to different parts of the country, but, unhappily, this was not possible.  Tou even tried to sell his property but he set such an unreasonable price that no buyer appeared, and he was, moreover, unwilling to leave all the treasures he had accumulated there—­the sculptured wainscotting, the polished panels, like mirrors, the transparent windows, the gilded lattice-work, the bamboo lounges, the vases of rare porcelain, the red and black lacquered cabinets, and the cases full of books of ancient poetry.  It was hard to give up to strangers the garden where he had planted shade and fruit trees with his own hands, and where, each spring he had watched the opening of the flowers; where in short, each object was bound to his heart by ties delicate as the finest silk, but strong as iron chains.

In the days of their friendship, Tou and Kouan had each built a pavilion in his garden, on the shore of a lake, common to both estates.  It had been a great delight to sit in their separate balconies and exchange friendly salutations while they smoked opium in pipes of delicate porcelain.  But after becoming enemies they built a wall which divided the lake into two equal portions.  The water was so deep that the wall was supported on a series of arches, through which the water flowed freely, reflecting upon its placid surface the rival pavilions.

These pavilions were exquisite specimens of Chinese architecture.  The roofs, covered with tiling, round and brilliant as the scales which glisten on the sides of a gold-fish, were supported upon red and black pillars which rested on a solid foundation, richly ornamented with porcelain slabs bearing all manner of artistic designs.  A railing ran all around, formed by a graceful intermingling of branches and flowers wrought in ivory.  The interior was not less sumptuous.  On the walls were inscribed verses of celebrated Chinese poems, elegantly written in perpendicular lines, with golden characters on a lacquered background.  Shades of delicately carved ivory, softened the light to a faint opal tint, and all around stood pots of orchis, peonies, and daisies, which filled the air with delicious perfume.  Curtains of rich silk were draped over the entrance, and on the marble tables within were scattered fans, tooth-picks, ebony pipes, and pencils with all conveniences for writing.

All around the pavilions were picturesque grounds of rock, among whose clefts grew clumps of willows, their long green twigs swaying on the surface of the water.  Under the crystal waves sported myriads of gold-fish, and ducks with gay plumage floated among the broad, shining leaves of water-lilies.  Except in the very centre of the pool, where the depth of the water prevented the growth of aquatic plants, the whole surface was covered with these leaves, like a carpet of soft green velvet.

Before the unsightly wall had been placed there by the hostile owners, it was impossible to find a more picturesque spot in the whole empire, and even now no philosopher would have wished for a more retired and delicious retreat in which to pass his days.