Upon catching this remark, the party turned their heads away, and shouted: "Dreadful! Dreadful! But quick sing your song and have done."

Forthwith Hsueh P'an sang:

"A mosquito buzzes heng, heng, heng!"

Every one was taken by surprise. "What kind of song is this?" they inquired.

But Hsueh P'an went on singing:

"Two flies buzz weng, weng, weng."

"Enough," shouted his companions, "that will do, that will do!"

"Do you want to hear it or not?" asked Hsueh P'an, "this is a new kind of song, called the 'Heng, heng air,' but if you people are not disposed to listen, let me off also from saying what I have to say over the heel-taps and I won't then sing."

"We'll let you off! We'll let you off," answered one and all, "so don't be hindering others."

"A maiden is sad,"

Chiang Yu-han at once began,

When her husband leaves home and never does return.

A maiden is disconsolate, When she has no money to go and buy some _olea frangrans_ oil.

A maiden is glad, When the wick of the lantern forms two heads like twin flowers on one stem.

A maiden is joyful, When true conjugal peace prevails between her and her mate.

His recital over, he went on to sing:

"How I love thee with those seductive charms of thine, heaven-born!

In truth thou'rt like a living fairy from the azure skies!

The spring of life we now enjoy; we are yet young in years.

Our union is, indeed, a happy match!

But. lo! the milky way doth at its zenith soar; Hark to the drums which beat around in the watch towers; So raise the silver lamp and let us soft under the nuptial curtain steal."

Finishing the song, he drank the "opening cup." "I know," he smiled, "few poetical quotations bearing on this sort of thing. By a stroke of good fortune, however, I yesterday conned a pair of ant.i.thetical scrolls; of these I can only remember just one line, but lucky enough for me the object it refers to figures as well on this festive board."

This said he forthwith drained the wine, and, picking up a bud of a diminutive variety of _olea fragrans_, he recited:

"When the perfume of flowers wafts (hsi jen) itself into a man, he knows the day is warm."

The company unanimously conceded that the rule had been adhered to. But Hsueh P'an once again jumped up. "It's awful, awful!" he bawled out boisterously; "he should be fined, he should be made to pay a forfeit; there's no precious article whatever on this table; how is it then that you introduce precious things?"

"There was nothing about precious things!" Chiang Yu-han vehemently explained.

"What I are you still prevaricating?" Hsueh P'an cried, "Well, repeat it again!"

Chiang Yu-han had no other course but to recite the line a second time.

"Now is not Hsi Jen a precious thing?" Hsueh P'an asked. "If she isn't, what is she? And if you don't believe me, you ask him about it,"

pointing, at the conclusion of this remark, at Pao-yu.

Pao-yu felt very uncomfortable. Rising to his feet, "Cousin," he observed, "you should be fined heavily."

"I should be! I should be!" Hsueh P'an shouted, and saying this, he took up the wine and poured it down his throat with one gulp.

Feng Tzu-ying, Chiang Yu-han and their companions thereupon asked him to explain the allusion. Yun Erh readily told them, and Chiang Yu-han hastily got up and pleaded guilty.

"Ignorance," the party said with one consent, "does not amount to guilt."

But presently Pao-yu quitted the banquet to go and satisfy a natural want and Chiang Yu-han followed him out. The two young fellows halted under the eaves of the verandah, and Chiang Yu-han then recommenced to make ample apologies. Pao-yu, however, was so attracted by his handsome and genial appearance, that he took quite a violent fancy to him; and squeezing his hand in a firm grip. "If you have nothing to do," he urged, "do let us go over to our place. I've got something more to ask you. It's this, there's in your worthy company some one called Ch'i Kuan, with a reputation extending at present throughout the world; but, unfortunately, I alone have not had the good luck of seeing him even once."

"This is really," rejoined Chiang Yu-han with a smile, "my own infant name."

This disclosure at once made Pao-yu quite exuberant, and stamping his feet he smiled. "How lucky! I'm in luck's way!" he exclaimed. "In very truth your reputation is no idle report. But to-day is our first meeting, and what shall I do?"

After some thought, he produced a fan from his sleeve, and, unloosening one of the jade pendants, he handed it to Ch'i Kuan. "This is a mere trifle," he said. "It does not deserve your acceptance, yet it will be a small souvenir of our acquaintance to-day."

Ch'i Kuan received it with a smile. "I do not deserve," he replied, "such a present. How am I worthy of such an honour! But never mind, I've also got about me here a strange thing, which I put on this morning; it is brand-new yet, and will, I hope, suffice to prove to you a little of the feeling of esteem which I entertain for you."

With these protestations, he raised his garment, and, untying a deep red sash, with which his nether clothes were fastened, he presented it to Pao-yu. "This sash," he remarked, "is an article brought as tribute from the Queen of the Hsi Hsiang Kingdom. If you attach this round you in summer, your person will emit a fragrant perfume, and it will not perspire. It was given to me yesterday by the Prince of Pei Ching, and it is only to-day that I put it on. To any one else, I would certainly not be willing to present it. But, Mr. Secundus, please do unfasten the one you have on and give it to me to bind round me."

This proposal extremely delighted Pao-yu. With precipitate haste, he accepted his gift, and, undoing the dark brown sash he wore, he surrendered it to Ch'i Kuan. But both had just had time to adjust their respective sashes when they heard a loud voice say: "Oh! I've caught you!" And they perceived Hsueh P'an come out by leaps and bounds.

Clutching the two young fellows, "What do you," he exclaimed, "leave your wine for and withdraw from the banquet. Be quick and produce those things, and let me see them!"

"There's nothing to see!" rejoined the two young fellows with one voice.

Hsueh P'an, however, would by no means fall in with their views. And it was only Feng Tzu-ying, who made his appearance on the scene, who succeeded in dissuading him. So resuming their seats, they drank until dark, when the company broke up.

Pao-yu, on his return into the garden, loosened his clothes, and had tea. But Hsi Jen noticed that the pendant had disappeared from his fan and she inquired of him what had become of it.

"I must have lost it this very moment," Pao-yu replied.

At bedtime, however, descrying a deep red sash, with spots like specks of blood, attached round his waist, Hsi Jen guessed more or less the truth of what must have transpired. "As you have such a nice sash to fasten your trousers with," Hsi Jen consequently said, "you'd better return that one of mine."

This reminder made the fact dawn upon Pao-yu that the sash had originally been the property of Hsi Jen, and that he should by rights not have parted with it; but however much he felt his conscience smitten by remorse, he failed to see how he could very well disclose the truth to her. He could therefore only put on a smiling expression and add, "I'll give you another one instead."

Hsi Jen was prompted by his rejoinder to nod her head and sigh. "I felt sure;" she observed; "that you'd go again and do these things! Yet you shouldn't take my belongings and bestow them on that low-bred sort of people. Can it be that no consideration finds a place in your heart?"

She then felt disposed to tender him a few more words of admonition, but dreading, on the other hand, lest she should, by irritating him, bring the fumes of the wine to his head, she thought it best to also retire to bed.

Nothing worth noticing occurred during that night. The next day, when she woke up at the break of day, she heard Pao-yu call out laughingly: "Robbers have been here in the night; are you not aware of it? Just you look at my trousers."

Hsi Jen lowered her head and looked. She saw at a glance that the sash, which Pao-yu had worn the previous day, was bound round her own waist, and she at once realised that Pao-yu must have effected the change during the night; but promptly unbinding it, "I don't care for such things!" she cried, "quick, take it away!"

At the sight of her manner, Pao-yu had to coax her with gentle terms.

This so disarmed Hsi Jen, that she felt under the necessity of putting on the sash; but, subsequently when Pao-yu stepped out of the apartment, she at last pulled it off, and, throwing it away in an empty box, she found one of hers and fastened it round her waist.

Pao-yu, however, did not in the least notice what she did, but inquired whether anything had happened the day before.