"Young people, my daughter, should never use the word 'never.' When you are as old as I am and have to think soberly of the spring winds as not just a chance to fly kites, then 'never' means something; ah, it means too much. There is so much happiness I shall never know again, so many faces I shall never see. But you, with your handful of years, there is no 'never' for you. You thought to-day you would never smile again. You had heard of me, hadn't you, and trembled to meet a bad-tempered old grandmother; don't deny it—I saw it in your face when they made you kneel. I shall not be bad-tempered to you, child. We old people like to have flowers about us. I shall be selfish of your company and most surely will begrudge you to others. And will you be sorry? Aha, I don't think you will. Your father must have taught you wisely for you remind me of children as they used to be when I was young. I am tired of being waited on by servant maids or by people who wonder when I'm going to die. Why should I die just to make fools more comfortable in their folly! No, I shall not be bad-tempered to you, because you are the first person I have had round me for years who really wished me to live. But I'm not going to share you."
How firm were her intentions was soon shown, for Nancy's mother-in-law came in to say, in a voice too carefully matter-of-fact, that if the old t'ai-t'ai had been gracious to say all she wished to the 'hsi-fu,' they hoped she would give her permission to withdraw, for there was much work to be done and her room to be set right.
"And whose work, indeed, is she to do, if not mine?" asked the old t'ai-t'ai. "Her room we can discuss later, but to-night her room will be here."
"Oh, but that would not be convenient," faintly protested the younger woman; "we must not separate the bride from her husband. My mother speaks this out of her kind heart, but surely it would make my mother uncomfortable."
"It will be entirely convenient," snapped the dowager.
"Very well, that is only what we wished to be sure of," said Ming-te's mother hastily, "we wanted to make sure of your comfort."
Yet the next day she was still so far from being satisfied of the old t'ai-t'ai's comfort that she asked her sister-in-law to intercede and to get Nancy out of the old lady's clutches before it was too late. Hai t'ai-t'ai, Nancy's step-mother, was more than ready to try, for she knew that while the old lady lived, if they did not make a stand quickly, Nancy would be lost to their control. She had a portion of her mother's independence and did not cringe in the august presence as her sister-in-law was apt to do. Waiting a chance when Nancy was absent, she went boldly into the den.
"You have come to ask after my health, have you?" inquired her mother brusquely. "My health is excellent, this morning. It has done me great good to meet someone new.
"We are so glad that the foreign hsi-fu meets with your favor," lied the daughter cheerfully. "I thought of your comfort when I began to arrange the match."
"Did you? Well, you thought most intelligently, so intelligently that I have decided to keep her as my companion, to give her the room next to mine."