At this hint Chia Chen and his companions eventually withdrew. The second watch had not, at the time, yet gone. The play that was being sung was: 'The eight worthies look at the lanterns,' consisting of eight acts; and had now reached a sensational part.
Pao-yü at this stage left the feast and was going out. "Where are you off to?" inquired his grandmother Chia. "The crackers outside are dreadful. Mind, the lighted pieces of paper falling from above might burn you."
Pao-yü smiled. "I'm not going far," he answered. "I'm merely going out of the room, and will be back at once."
Dowager lady Chia directed the matrons to "be careful and escort him."
Pao-yü forthwith sallied out; with no other attendants however than She
Yüeh, Ch'iu Wen and several youthful maids.
"How is it," his grandmother Chia felt obliged so ask, "that I don't see anything of Hsi Jen? Is she too now putting on high and mighty airs that she only sends these juvenile girls here?"
Madame Wang rose to her feet with all haste. "Her mother," she explained, "died the other day; so being in deep mourning, she couldn't very well present herself."
Dowager lady Chia nodded her head assentingly. "When one is in service," she smilingly remarked, "there should be no question of mourning or no mourning. Is it likely that, if she were still in my pay, she wouldn't at present be here? All these practices have quite become precedents!"
Lady Feng crossed over to her. "Had she even not been in mourning to-night," she chimed in with a laugh, "she would have had to be in the garden and keep an eye over that pile of lanterns, candles, and fireworks, as they're most dangerous things. For as soon as any theatricals are set on foot in here, who doesn't surreptitiously sneak out from the garden to have a look? But as far as she goes, she's diligent, and careful of every place. Moreover, when the company disperses and brother Pao-yü retires to sleep, everything will be in perfect readiness. But, had she also come, that bevy of servants wouldn't again have cared a straw for anything; and on his return, after the party, the bedding would have been cold, the tea-water wouldn't have been ready, and he would have had to put up with every sort of discomfort. That's why I told her that there was no need for her to come. But should you, dear senior, wish her here, I'll send for her straightway and have done."
Old lady Chia lent an ear to her arguments. "What you say," she promptly put in, "is perfectly right. You've made better arrangements than I could. Quick, don't send for her! But when did her mother die? How is it I know nothing about it?"