perhaps most magnificent to behold, the splendid Sikhs from India. But the moment she cherished above all was when a single officer, the first man they saw, walked onto the British legation lawn, wondering where exactly he was, to be greeted by Lady MacDonald herself, together with a bevy of wives, all dressed formally as though for a diplomatic reception, with the immortal words: “I don’t know who you are, but we are very pleased to see you.”

A close second had to be the reaction of her dear father, who on being told that the Dowager Empress Cixi had managed to disappear from the Forbidden City overnight and could not be found, delightedly remarked: “She’s done a bunk. A moonlight flit. You’d think she couldn’t pay the rent!”

A third was more moving.

For the day after these events, a discovery was made, of two mines that the Chinese had dug—not the mine that Tom had detected on the northern side of the legation, but two others that no one had known anything about. Inside the mines were found huge quantities of explosive, all primed and ready to be detonated. Why had they not been used? Nobody ever found out. She was with her father, her husband, and Tom when MacDonald came in with the news.

“Had those gone off,” MacDonald told them, “there’d have been nothing left of the legations. We should, all of us, have been blown to smithereens.”

And she saw her father put his hand on Henry’s shoulder and quietly say, “Well, if that isn’t a sign of God’s providence, then I don’t know what is.” And Henry suddenly broke down and wept, though she didn’t quite know why.

The following months were relatively quiet for Emily. The Boxer Rebellion was not completely over. Though the Christians in the Legation Quarter and up at the Catholic cathedral had been rescued, there were terrible massacres, of Catholics especially, in the northern prefectures that continued for almost a year until the movement came to an end.

During that time, the Empress Cixi, having got clean away in disguise, had reemerged in the central provinces, where she made a diplomatic tour of ancient cities until terms were finally agreed for her safe return, with the support of the Western powers, to the capital.

In the legation, however, the rebuilding of life began right away. In the autumn, Tom was sent to England with another family who were making the voyage. Henry was busy with the mission, which had to be rebuilt. Emily took it upon herself to write a long letter giving the family a full account of everything that had passed, including a glowing account of her father’s gallant role in the whole business.

The surprise had been her father. She’d supposed he’d probably go back to England with Tom. But instead he’d announced that there was something he wanted to do before he left, and that it might take a month or two.

She and Henry were perfectly happy about it and glad of his company. But she’d been amazed at how busy he’d been. There had been calls upon diplomats and long discussions with Morrison, old Sir Robert Hart, and others knowledgeable in the conduct of affairs. And finally, after two months, he had completed his project.

His report, entitled The Folly of Reparations in China, was never published, but it was widely read. And admired. For it was a masterpiece.

“You see,” he told her, “what I came to suspect, over some decades involved with China in one way or another, was that we’d all been making a great mistake. Every time there was a conflict—and of course we always insisted that each war was started by the other side and not by us—we would claim compensation. Both to cover our own expenses and to deter the other side from starting any trouble again. And I came to see that this policy has many problems. In the first place, since the argument is presented as a moral one—that the whole thing’s the other fellow’s fault—it means that you’re simply increasing the enmity between the parties. Secondly, to substantiate your claim to the moral high ground, you’ll probably need to tell a pack of lies, which is bad for you. Thirdly, it encourages an attitude of self-righteousness in the party who’s on the winning side, which means he doesn’t listen to the views and needs of the other party.”

“Shouldn’t one be in the right?” she asked. “Surely we should.”

“Not if it makes you a bully. For here’s the thing. I’ve been over all the figures most carefully. I’ve made tables of them. All we’ve done is ruin China. Every time. Think of it: We want China to be open and to trade with us. When they won’t, because however foolishly they closed themselves off from the outside world, we come in and ruin them. Is that going to induce them to welcome us? Is that even going to make it possible for them to increase their trade? No. The first thing you’ve got to do in all business—or diplomacy—is discover the other fellow’s point of view and what he needs. Then you’ve got to find a way to make it in his self-interest to act as you wish. It takes patience, but any other course of action will be counterproductive in the long run. We need to help the Chinese, not punish them. Call it enlightened self-interest, call it anything you like. But that’s what we should do.”

“You really have strong feelings about this, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, now that I’ve understood it. And this report backs it up with chapter and verse, all the way.”

“And you wanted to write it before you left.”

“Yes, while it was fresh in my mind, and I had access to people like Hart who had a lot of hard information. I also wanted to get it out there before we indulge ourselves in another round of reparations for this latest affair.”

She’d been so proud of the old man. And although

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