friendship was sealed).'
As the conversation again turned on Pao-ch'in, Tai-yue recalled to mind that she had no sister, and she could not help melting once more into tears.
Pao-yue hastened to reason with her. 'This is again bringing trouble upon yourself!' he argued. 'Just see how much thinner you are this year than you were last; and don't you yet look after your health? You deliberately worry yourself every day of your life. And when you've had a good cry, you feel at last that you've acquitted yourself of the duties of the day.'
'Of late,' Tai-yue observed, drying her tears, 'I feel sore at heart. But my tears are scantier by far than they were in years gone by. With all the grief and anguish, which gnaw my heart, my tears won't fall plentifully.'
'This is because weeping has become a habit with you,' Pao-yue added. 'But though you fancy to yourself that it is so, how can your tears have become scantier than they were?'
While arguing with her, he perceived a young waiting-maid, attached to his room, bring him a red felt wrapper. 'Our senior mistress, lady Chia Chu,' she went on, 'has just sent a servant to say that, as it snows, arrangements should be made for inviting people to-morrow to write verses.'
But hardly was this message delivered, than they saw Li Wan's maid enter, and invite Tai-yue to go over. Pao-yue then proposed to Tai-yue to accompany him, and together they came to the Tao Hsiang village. Tai-yue changed her shoes for a pair of low shoes made of red scented sheep skin, ornamented with gold, and hollowed clouds. She put on a deep red crape cloak, lined with white fox fur; girdled herself with a lapis-lazuli coloured sash, decorated with bright green double rings and four sceptres; and covered her head with a hat suitable for rainy weather. After which, the two cousins trudged in the snow, and repaired to this side of the mansion. Here they discovered the young ladies assembled, dressed all alike in deep red felt or camlet capes, with the exception of Li Wan, who was clad in a woollen jacket, buttoning in the middle.
Hsueeh Pao-ch'ai wore a pinkish-purple twilled pelisse, lined with foreign 'pa' fur, worked with threads from abroad, and ornamented with double embroidery. Hsing Chou-yen was still attired in an old costume, she ordinarily used at home, without any garment for protection against the rain. Shortly, Shih Hsiang-yuen arrived. She wore the long pelisse, given her by dowager lady Chia, which gave warmth both from the inside and outside, as the top consisted of martin-head fur, and the lining of the long-haired coat of the dark grey squirrel. On her head, she had a deep red woollen hood, made
'Just see here!' Tai-yue was the first to shout with a laugh. 'Here comes Sun Hsing-che the 'monkey-walker!' Lo, like him, she holds a snow cloak, and purposely puts on the air of a young bewitching ape!'
'Look here, all of you!' Hsiang-yuen laughed. 'See what I wear inside!'
So saying, she threw off her cloak. This enabled them to notice that she wore underneath a half-new garment with three different coloured borders on the collar and cuffs, consisting of a short pelisse of russet material lined with ermine and ornamented with dragons embroidered in variegated silks whose coils were worked with golden threads. The lapel was narrow. The sleeves were short. The folds buttoned on the side. Under this, she had a very short light-red brocaded satin bodkin, lined with fur from foxes' ribs. Round her waist was lightly attached a many- hued palace sash, with butterfly knots and long tassels. On her feet, she too wore a pair of low shoes made of deer leather. Her waist looked more than ever like that of a wasp, her back like that of the gibbon. Her bearing resembled that of a crane, her figure that of a mantis.
'Her weak point,' they laughed unanimously, 'is to get herself up to look like a young masher. But she does, there's no denying, cut a much handsomer figure like this, than when she's dressed up like a girl!'
'Lose no time,' Hsiang-yuen smiled, 'in deliberating about writing verses, for I'd like to hear who is to stand treat.'
'According to my idea,' Li Wan chimed in, 'I think that as the legitimate day, which was yesterday, has gone by, it would be too long to wait for another proper date. As luck would have it, it's snowing again to-day, so won't it be well to raise contributions among ourselves and have a meeting? We'll thus be able to give the visitors a greeting; and to get an opportunity of writing a few verses. But what are your views on the subject?'
'This proposal is excellent!' Pao-yue was the first to exclaim. 'The only thing is that it's too late to-day; and if it clears up by to-morrow, there will be really no fun.'
'It isn't likely,' cried out the party with one voice, 'that this snowy weather will clear up. But even supposing it does, the snow which will fall during this night will be sufficient for our enjoyment.'
'This place of mine is nice enough, it's true,' Li Wan added, 'yet it isn't up to the Lu Hsueeh Pavilion. I've already therefore despatched workmen to raise earthen couches, so that we should all be able to sit round the fire and compose our verses. Our venerable senior, I fancy, is not sure about caring to join us. Besides, this is only a small amusement between ourselves so if we just let that hussy Feng know something about it, it will be quite enough. A tael from each of you will be ample, but send your money to me here! As regards Hsiang Ling, Pao-ch'in, Li Wen, Li Ch'i and Chou-yen, the five of them, we needn't count them. Neither need we include the two girls of our number, who are ill; nor take into account the four girls who've asked for leave. If you will let me have your four shares, I'll undertake to see that five or six taels be made to suffice.'
Pao-ch'ai and the others without exception signified their acquiescence. They consequently proceeded to propose the themes and to fix upon the rhymes.
'I've long ago,' smiled Li Wan, 'settled them in my own mind, so tomorrow at the proper time you'll really know all about them.'
At the conclusion of this remark, they indulged in another chat on irrelevant topics; and this over, they came into old lady Chia's quarters.
Nothing of any note transpired during the course of that day. At an early hour on the morrow, Pao-yue-for he had been looking forward with such keen expectation to the coming event that he had found it impossible to have any sleep during the night,-jumped out of bed with the first blush of dawn. Upon raising his curtain and looking out, he observed that, albeit the doors and windows were as yet closed, a bright light shone on the lattice sufficient to dazzle the eyes, and his mind began at once to entertain misgivings, and to feel regrets, in the assurance that the weather had turned out fine, and that the sun had already risen. In a hurry, he simultaneously sprung to his feet, and flung the window-frame open, then casting a glance outside, from within the glass casement, he realised that it was not the reflection of the sun, but that of the snow, which had fallen throughout the night to the depth of over a foot, and that the heavens were still covered as if with twisted cotton and unravelled floss. Pao-yue got, by this time, into an unusual state of exhilaration. Hastily calling up the servants, and completing his ablutions, he robed himself in an egg-plant-coloured camlet, fox-fur lined pelisse; donned a short-sleeved falconry surtout ornamented with water dragons; tied a sash round his waist; threw over his shoulders a fine bamboo waterproof; covered his head with a golden rattan rain-hat; put on a pair of 'sha t'ang' wood clogs, and rushed out with precipitate step towards the direction of the Lu Hsueeh Pavilion.
As soon as he sallied out of the gate of the courtyard, he gazed on all four quarters. No trace whatever of any other colour (but white) struck his eye. In the distance stood the green fir-trees and the kingfisherlike bamboos. They too looked, however, as if they were placed in a glass bowl.
Forthwith he wended his way down the slope and trudged along the foot of the hill. But the moment he turned the bend, he felt a whiff of cold fragrance come wafted into his nostrils. Turning his head, he espied ten and more red plum trees, over at Miao Yue's in the Lung Ts'ui monastery. They were red like very rouge. And, reflecting the white colour of the snow, they showed off their beauty to such an extraordinary degree as to present a most pleasing sight.
Pao-yue quickly stood still, and gazed, with all intentness, at the landscape for a time. But just as he was proceeding on his way, he caught sight of some one on the 'Wasp waist' wooden bridge, advancing in his direction, with an umbrella in hand. It was the servant, despatched by Li Wan, to request lady Peng to go over.
On his arrival in the Lu Hsueeh pavilion, Pao-yue found the maids and matrons engaged in sweeping away the snow and opening a passage. This Lu Hsueeh (Water-rush snow) pavilion was, we might explain, situated on a side hill, in the vicinity of a stream and spanned the rapids formed by it. The whole place consisted of several thatched roofs, mud walls, side fences, bamboo lattice windows and pushing windows, out of which fishing-lines could be conveniently dropped. On all four sides flourished one mass of reeds, which concealed the single path out of the pavilion. Turning and twisting, he penetrated on his way through the growth of reeds until he reached the spot where stretched the bamboo bridge leading to the Lotus Fragrance Arbour.
The moment the maids and matrons saw him approach with his waterproof-wrapper thrown over his person
