“I wonder if she is real, or only a dream-maiden, after all,” he said to himself.
But Yun-Ying was quite real; only her mother, who knew something of magic, had given her the power of stepping in and out of people’s dreams.
Pei-Hang got up and went on his way, thinking of Yun-Ying all the time.
It was still very hot, and he grew so thirsty that he went to a little hut by the roadside, and asked an old woman who was sitting in the doorway to give him a drink.
She called to her daughter to fill their best goblet with fresh spring water, and bring it out to the stranger. Then appeared none other than Yun-Ying herself.
“Oh!” cried Pei-Hang, “I thought that I might never see you again, and I have found you already.”
“And who am I?” asked the girl, smiling.
“Yun-Ying,” replied Pei-Hang; and the name seemed so musical to him that he said it over and over again.
Yun-Ying was dressed in white underneath, but her overdress was bright blue, embroidered with beautiful flowers which she had worked herself; and she stood in the door of the hut, with a peach tree in full bloom over her head, making such a picture of youth and loveliness that Pei-Hang’s heart seemed to jump into his throat, and beat there fast enough to choke him.
“Who are you? And how do you come to know Yun-Ying?” asked the old woman, peering and blinking at him, with her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun.