Bride and bridegroom took their places in front of the minister, in front of the plant and alongside the coals, and it made my back ache to think of keeping any being standing for above a second on such feet. The service began, all in Chinese, of course, though the officiating minister was an American, a couple of hymns were sung, and the audience laughed aloud because she was married by her baby name, her mother having omitted to provide her with another.
The good woman had yearned for a son so she had called this girl “Lead a brother.”
Half-way through the ceremony the bridegroom lifted the veil. He gave it a hurried snatch, as if it were a matter of no moment, and hung it on one of the projections of the brazen crown, and then he and we saw the bride's face for the first time. They had done their best to spoil her beauty with carmine paint, but she had a nice little nose and a sweet little quivering mouth that was very lovable, and I think the bridegroom, though he never moved a muscle, must have been pleased with his bargain.
When the service was ended, she and we, the principal guests, went back to the k'ang in the bride chamber; her crown and outer red robe were taken off, all in public, and a small square box containing some of her trousseau was brought in, and every woman and child there in that stuffy little room dived into it and hauled out the silks and embroideries and little shoes and made audible comments on them.
“H'm! it's only sham silk,” said one.
“How old are you, new bride?” asked another.
“She's not much to look at,” said a third, which was a shame, for with the paint washed off she must have been pretty though tired-looking.
It was five o'clock before we went to the feast, all the women together, and all the men together, four or five at a table, and the bridegroom, without the absurd headgear, and his mother, in sober blue silk, came round at intervals and exhorted us to eat plenty.
We had one little saucer each, a pair of chopsticks and a china spoon such as that with which my grandmother used to ladle out her tea, and they served for all the courses. It was lucky I had had nothing since seven in the morning, or I might not have felt equal to eating after I had seen the cooking and the washing-up arrangements. As it was, I was hungry enough not to worry over trifles. After she had sucked them audibly, my friend the Bible-woman helped me with her own chopsticks, and I managed to put up with that too. I tried a little wine. It was served in little bowls not as large as a very small salt-cellar, literally in thimblefuls, but one was too much for me. It tasted of fiery spirit and earth, and I felt my companion was not denying herself much when she proclaimed herself a teetotaller. What we ate heaven only knows, but much to my surprise I found it very good. Chinese when they have the opportunity are excellent cooks.
The bride sat throughout the feast on the k'ang, her hands—three of her finger-nails were shielded with long silver shields—hidden under her lavender jacket and her plate piled before her, though etiquette required that she should refuse all food. They chaffed her and laughed at her, but she sat there with downcast eyes like a graven image. After the feast two or three men friends of the bridegroom were brought in, and to every one she had to rise and make an obeisance, and though the men and women hardly looked at or spoke to each other, it was evident that she was for this occasion a thing to be commented on, inspected and laughed at. She was bearing it very well, poor little girl, when Kan T'ai T'ai's cart—I was Kan T'ai T'ai—was announced, and we went home through the streets as the shades of evening were falling. I had fed bountifully and well, but the dissipation had worn me out, the airlessness of the rooms was terrible, and even the dust-laden air of the narrow street I drew into my lungs with a sigh of deep thankfulness. It was good to be in the free air again. Better still to remember, however I had railed against my fate at times, nothing that could ever happen to me would be quite as bad as the fate of the average Chinese woman.