"To tell you this to-day，" smiled Feng Tzu-ying， "will be no GREat fun. But for this purpose I intend standing a special entertainment， and inviting you all to come and have a long chat； and， in the second place， I've also got a favour to ask of you."

Saying this， he pushed his way and was going off at once， when Hsueeh P'an interposed. "What you've said，" he observed， "has put us more than ever on pins and needles. We cannot brook any delay. Who knows when you will ask us round； so better tell us， and thus avoid keeping people in suspense！"

"the latest，" rejoined Feng Tzu-ying， "in ten days； the earliest in eight." With this answer he went out of the door， mounted his horse， and took his departure.

the party resumed their seats at table. They had another bout， and then eventually dispersed.

Pao-yue returned into the garden in time to find Hsi Jen thinking with solicitude that he had gone to see Chia Cheng and wondering whether it foreboded good or evil. As soon as she perceived Pao-yue come back in a drunken state， she felt urged to inquire the reason of it all. Pao-yue told her one by one the particulars of what happened.

"People，" added Hsi Jen， "wait for you with lacerated heart and anxious mind， and there you go and make merry； yet you could very well， after all， have sent some one with a message."

"Didn't I purpose sending a message？" exclaimed Pao-yue. "Of course， I did！ But I failed to do so， as on the arrival of friend Feng， I got so mixed up that the intention vanished entirely from my mind."

While excusing himself， he saw Pao-ch'ai enter the apartment. "Have you tasted any of our new things？" she asked， a smile curling her lips.

"Cousin，" laughed Pao-yue， "you must have certainly tasted what you've got in your house long before us."

Pao-ch'ai shook her head and smiled. "Yesterday，" she said， "my brother did actually make it a point to ask me to have some； but I had none； I told him to keep them and send them to others， so confident am I that with my mean lot and scanty blessings I little deserve to touch such dainties."

As she spoke， a servant-girl poured her a cup of tea and brought it to her. While she sipped it， she carried on a conversation on irrelevant matters； which we need not notice， but turn our attention to Lin Tai-yue.

the instant she heard that Chia Cheng had sent for Pao-yue， and that he had not come back during the whole day， she felt very distressed on his account. After supper， the news of Pao-yue's return reached her， and she keenly longed to see him and ask him what was up. Step by step she trudged along， when espying Pao-ch'ai going into Pao-yue's garden， she herself followed close in her track. But on their arrival at the Hsin Fang bridge， she caught sight of the various kinds of water-fowl， bathing together in the pond， and although unable to discriminate the numerous species， her gaze became so transfixed by their respective variegated and bright plumage and by their exceptional beauty， that she halted. And it was after she had spent some considerable time in admiring them that she repaired at last to the I Hung court. The gate was already closed. Tai-yue， however， lost no time in knocking. But Ch'ing Wen and Pi Hen had， who would have thought it， been having a tiff， and were in a captious mood， so upon unawares seeing Pao-ch'ai step on the scene， Ch'ing Wen at once visited her resentment upon Pao-ch'ai. She was just standing in the court giving vent to her wrongs， shouting： "You're always running over and seating yourself here， whether you've got good reason for doing so or not； and there's no sleep for us at the third watch， the middle of the night though it be，" when， all of a sudden， she heard some one else calling at the door. Ch'ing Wen was the more moved to anger. Without even asking who it was， she rapidly bawled out： "They've all gone to sleep； you'd better come to-morrow."

Lin Tai-yue was well aware of the natural peculiarities of the waiting-maids， and of their habit of playing practical jokes upon each other， so fearing that the girl in the inner room had failed to recognise her voice， and had refused to open under the misconception that it was some other servant-girl， she gave a second shout in a higher pitch. "It's I！" she cried， "don't you yet open the gate？"

Ch'ing Wen， as it happened， did not still distinguish her voice； and in an irritable strain， she rejoined： "It's no matter who you may be； Mr. Secundus has given orders that no one at all should be allowed to come in."

As these words reached Lin Tai-yue's ear， she unwittingly was overcome with indignation at being left standing outside. But when on the point of raising her voice to ask her one or two things， and to start a quarrel with her； "albeit，" she again argued mentally， "I can call this my aunt's house， and it should be just as if it were my own， it's， after all， a strange place， and now that my father and mother are both dead， and that I am left with no one to rely upon， I have for the present to depend upon her family for a home. Were I now therefore to give way to a regular fit of anger with her， I'll really get no good out of it."

While indulging in reflection， tears trickled from her eyes. But just as she was feeling unable to retrace her steps， and unable to remain standing any longer， and quite at a loss what to do， she overheard the sound of jocular language inside， and listening carefully， she discovered that it was， indeed， Pao-yue and Pao-ch'ai. Lin Tai-yue waxed more wroth. After much thought and cogitation， the incidents of the morning FLASHed unawares through her memory. "It must， in fact，" she mused， "be because Pao-yue is angry with me for having explained to him the true reasons. But why did I ever go and tell you？ You should， however， have made inquiries before you lost your temper to such an extent with me as to refuse to let me in to-day； but is it likely that we shall not by and bye meet face to face again？"

the more she gave way to thought， the more she felt wounded and agitated； and without heeding the moss， laden with cold dew， the path covered with vegetation， and the chilly blasts of wind， she lingered all alone， under the shadow of the bushes at the corner of the wall， so thoroughly sad and dejected that she broke forth into sobs.

Lin Tai-yue was， indeed， endowed with exceptional beauty and with charms rarely met with in the world. As soon therefore as she suddenly melted into tears， and the birds and rooks roosting on the neighbouring willow boughs and branches of shrubs caught the sound of her plaintive tones， they one and all fell into a most terrific flutter， and， taking to their wings， they flew away to distant recesses， so little were they able to listen with equanimity to such accents. But the spirits of the flowers were， at the time， silent and devoid of feeling， the birds were plunged in dreams and in a state of stupor， so why did they start？ A stanza appositely assigns the reason：——

P'in Erh's mental talents and looks must in the world be rare——。 Alone， clasped in a subtle smell， she quits her maiden room. The sound of but one single sob scarcely dies away， And drooping flowers cover the ground and birds fly in dismay.

Lin Tai-yue was sobbing in her solitude， when a creaking noise struck her ear and the door of the court was flung open. Who came out， is not yet ascertained； but， reader， should you wish to know， the next chapter will explain.