_Wong Fe_

I kiss his honorable dust! He shall live with my ancestors! And Makuro, the young j.a.panese, I shall love him too, for he is most dear to Yu Tai Shun. Do they still sit in the orchard?

_So Siu_

They have not moved, nor paused in their talking. Do you not hear? Like bees that cannot choose their flower. It may be that they have brought news to Yu Tai Shun, and his gloom will pa.s.s.

_Wong Fe_

No, I feel it was their coming, like a far cloud, that shadowed him. Oh, my So Siu, it will be darker now!

_So Siu_

I have sent tea and cakes to the orchard.

_Wong Fe_

It shall not be dark. Do not the fairies of the sun weave a white world out of the threads of midnight? I will pray to them. We must be merry, my lily So Siu.

_So Siu_

And why not?

_Wong Fe_

I shall dance to-night before Yu Tai Shun. (_Tripping._) Is it not good to have feet? My honorable and glorious mamma weeps when I dance, but it is because she was born too soon and they crippled her beloved feet.

_So Siu_

How glad I am that the old world is gone when only the painted flower-girls could do the happy things!

_Wong Fe_

And it was my own lord, Yu Tai Shun, who made the earth new again!

(_She listens, suddenly still._)

_So Siu_

He is here!

_Wong Fe_

My darling So Siu....

_So Siu_

I go! (_Darts from room, right._)

_Wong Fe_

I would be dancing, but I cannot move. There are anchors of fear on my toes.

(_Enter_ YU TAI SHUN, _left. He is dressed in gray flannels, of American pattern._)

_Shun_ (_stopping before_ WONG FE)

I left a witch-cloud on the hills, and it has dropped down before me.

(_She courtesies to the floor. He s.n.a.t.c.hes her up._)

_Shun_

No! I want my Western bride to-night.

_Wong Fe_

But this is a Chinese orchard, and it is springtime. Let me worship a little.

_Shun_

Never, my mountain bird!

(_Draws her to the steps, where they sit._)

_Wong Fe_

You are weary, beloved?

_Shun_

Not now. I have my rest. To-morrow you shall go with me.

_Wong Fe_

Up the mountain?

_Shun_

I will show you where I dropped the storm in my heart.

_Wong Fe_ (_timidly_)

Will it come again, Yu Tai Shun?

_Shun_

Nothing can wake it again.