"But what god is this that he worships?" she asked.
"He spoke of the Jesus doctrine, of which, perhaps, he is a teacher," her father answered in the tone of one who had finished the conversation.
"But who is Jesus?" the curious child persisted.
"He is the god of barbarians and devils, Tuen," her father said sternly. "He is not so wise as Confucius, nor so great as Buddha, else you would have heard of him long ago."
"And yet he called him a God of Love," she went on musingly, not heeding her father's frown. "Is there a God of Love?"
"No," Niu Tsang said shortly. "All the gods hate the children of men, but because we offer prayers and incense they sometimes listen to us."
Tuen said nothing more, but that night from her bed in the open court she looked up at the silver river[2] winding among the golden stars, and wondered what god it was who lived so far away you could only dimly see his lamps shining through the blue, and she felt she would like to know if all the gods really hated her, and if so, what she had done to make them angry. Thus musing she fell asleep, and in the many strange events that soon crowded into her little life and filled it to overflowing, she forgot all about the stranger and his God.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The god of fate.