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at home.”
    “Well, well,” Madame Kang said, “be quiet now about your shame in the presence of others.”
    “Too much talk from girls,” Mr. Kang said, but he was fond of this Linyi, because she was the prettiest of all his daughters, and he smiled at her.
    Old Lady staggered to her feet. “I am going to bed,” she said. “I must prepare to be ill.”
    Madame Wu rose. “Do go, Mother,” she said. “We will remain with the guests in the other room.”
    She waited while two servants led Old Lady out, and all the guests stood. Then she looked at Mr. Wu.
    “Will you take your guests to the main hall?” she directed gently. “The ladies will come into my own sitting room.” She moved away as she spoke and the women followed her, and the men went with Mr. Wu in dividing streams. Children were taken to the courts and held by their nurses while they slept.
    Madame Wu paused at the door. “Take the sick little one to the bamboo bedroom,” she directed its nurse, “it is cool there. He must sleep awhile.” The child who had been wailing stopped suddenly at the sound of her voice.
    The feast was over, but in her sitting room Madame Wu maintained her delicate dignity before the women. She spoke little, but her silence was not noticed because she was by habit a silent woman. Only when some decision had to be made did they turn to her by instinct, for they knew that in this house she made all decisions. Then whatever she had decided she made known in a few simple, clear words, her voice always pretty and smooth and gentle as water slipping over stones.
    Around her the talk ebbed and flowed. A small troupe of actors had been hired for entertainment, and they performed their tricks. The children watched with pleasure, and the elders watched while they talked and sipped hot tea of the finest leaves plucked before summer rains fell. In the presence of younger women there was no talk possible between the older women, and Madame Kang slept a little. Once Madame Wu said to Ying, “Go and see if our Old Lady is ill.”
    Ying went away and came back laughing. “She has been ill and has cast up everything,” she told Madame Wu. “But she still says it was worth it.”
    Everyone laughed, and at the sound of the laughter Madame Kang woke. “It is time we went home,” she said to Madame Wu. “We must not weary you, Sister, for you are to live a hundred years.”
    Madame Wu smiled and rose as one by one the guests came to her to say good-by. Packets of sweetmeats and gifts and money from the guests had been prepared for the servants, and now Ying brought these in on a tray and servants came in to receive them. They bowed before Madame Wu, their hands clasped politely on their breasts, and Madame Wu replied to each one courteously and gave him his gifts. All these servants had feasted, too, in the kitchens.
    So at last she was alone again, and she allowed herself to be weary for one moment. Small muscles that held her bones gracefully erect relaxed at throat and breast and waist, and for a moment she looked wilted as a flower and now almost her age. Then she straightened her slender shoulders. It was too soon to be weary. The day was not yet ended.
    An hour later, after she had rested, she rose and walked up and down the room seven times. Then she went to the window and leaned on the low sill. The window was long and wide, and the lattices were thrown back. Outside was the court where she had sat this morning with Madame Kang and then with Liangmo. She recalled their horror at what she was about to do, and unconsciously she smiled her pretty smile which was neither sad nor gay.
    Ying at this moment appeared at the round moon gate of the court and she caught the smile. “Lady, you look like a young girl there in the moonlight!” she called.
    Madame Wu’s smile did not change, but she turned and sat down at the toilet table. Ying came in and took off her garments down to the fine white silk of her innermost ones. Then she let