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He did remember an apothecary whose poverty, if not his will, would consent to let him have a dram of poison. He was about acting on this inspiration, when a message was brought to him from Tching-whang, that, at his daughter's most earnest prayer, one solitary interview would be permitted the lovers. Like an arrow, Mien-yaun flew to the arms of Ching-ki-pin. She was, then, true to him.
Mien-yaun speedily learned that his fair friend's name was Ching-ki-pin; that she was the daughter of a wealthy manufacturer, named Tching-whang, who owned extensive porcelain-factories at the North, and was besides a considerable tobacco-planter; that her father was very kind to her, but that the old woman, who was not her own mother, treated her very cruelly; that her father married this ancient virago for her wealth, and now repented the rash step, but found it impossible to retrace it, as the law of China allows no divorces excepting when the wife has parents living to receive and shelter her; and the obnoxious woman being nearly a hundred years old herself, this was out of the question.
He wore furs from Russia, and cotton from Bombay; his breast sparkled with various orders of nobility; his slippers glistened with gems; his hat was surmounted with the waving feather of the peacock. Turning neither to the right nor to the left, he made his way to the residence of Tching-whang.
He renounces all connection with the black-haired daughter of the Kung, whom he now wishes a very good evening." And the ex-censor of the highest board gravely and gracefully bowed the family of Tching-whang out of the premises. The moment they crossed the threshold, Mien-yaun and Ching-ki-pin went into a simultaneous fit. Mien-yaun now abandoned himself to grief.
At the same time he could not forget his own great loss, occasioned by the unlucky spilling of the precious cup. He was sure, that Madam, in the kindness of her heart, would overlook his fault, and consent to bestow on him another cheering, but not inebriating draught. The Antique was overcome by so much condescension. She could not say a word. Tching-whang, too, remained paralyzed.
In a minute, however, her father appeared, bearing on his arm the Antique, who looked more hideous than ever. A flash of intelligence quivered through the multitude. Many of the nobility purchased their porcelain and tobacco of Tching-whang, and recognized him immediately. It is astonishing how like lightning unpleasant facts do fly.
As the Antique persisted, her husband gently reminded her that excessive talkativeness is an allowed ground for divorce in China, and, by suggesting the idea that she might possibly become the dismembered fragment of a shattered union, at length succeeded in shaming her into silence. This Tching-whang was a fine old fellow. He was not a bit fashionable, and Mien-yaun liked him the better for it.
She entertained Mien-yaun with a detailed account of her family trials, so interminable, that, with all his politeness, the young noble could not avoid gaping desperately. Tching-whang, observing his visitor's strait, interposed. "What the women have lost in their feet, they have added to their tongues," said he, quoting a Chinese proverb of great popularity.
The company rose to greet him; but he, with gracious suavity, begged them not to discompose themselves. Approaching that part of the table occupied by the bridal party, he laid his hand upon his heart, and assured Tching-whang that he was unable to express the joy he felt at seeing him and his family. Mien-yaun's father was a perfect master of the elementary principles.
Tching-whang lost his presence of mind altogether, and violated the common decencies of life by receiving his visitor with his hat off, and taking the proffered presents with one hand, the other being occupied in pulling his ear, to assure himself he was not dreaming. Mien-yaun spoke.
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