TO-DAY I AM WEARY and spent, My Sister. In my heart it is as though a harp string had been too tightly drawn for many days and then suddenly relaxed, so that music is dead in it.
The hour I have dreaded is over! No, I will not say how it went. I will tell you of the whole matter, and then you may judge of it for yourself. As for me—but I will not tell of the end before the beginning.
We sent the messenger to our parents, bearing our request that we be allowed to present ourselves the next day at noon. He returned saying that our father had left home for Tientsin as soon as he heard of my brother’s arrival. Thus did he avoid the difficult moment—thus has he ever avoided decisions! In his stead our mother appointed the hour of noon when she would receive my brother and me. Of the foreigner no mention was made, but my brother cried, “If I go, my wife will go, also.”
I went first, therefore, the next day, at the hour, and a servant bore gifts before me. My brother had chosen these gifts in foreign countries, and they were all curious and pretty things not often seen in our city—a tiny gilt clock set in the stomach of a gilded child, the whole not more than six inches in height; a watch cunningly embroidered with jewels to wear upon the wrist; a machine which when wound with a handle could speak and shout; a light which renewed itself without fire, however long it shone; and a fan of ostrich plumes, white as a drift of pear blossoms.
I went into her presence with these gifts. Our mother had sent word that she would receive us in the guest-hall, and there she was seated, as I entered, in the heavy dark carved chair of blackwood, at the right of the table under the painting of the Ming Emperor. She was robed in black brocaded satin, and in her hair were ornaments of gold. Upon her hands were many rings of gold, set with rubies and topaz, the stones fitting for the dignity of age. She leaned upon her staff of ebony and silver. I had never beheld her more stately in outward appearance.
But I knew her well, and I scanned her face closely to see how she really was in health, and my heart dropped in fear. The black of her garments but emphasized the transparent thinness of her face. So thin had she become that her lips had taken on the set curves almost of death itself, and her eyes had enlarged themselves, so that they were the sick and sunken eyes of the desperately ill. Upon her fingers the rings hung loosely and clattered against each other with a touch of dim music if she moved her hands. I longed to ask her how she really was, but I dared not, knowing it would annoy her. She had nerved herself to the meeting, and she had need of her strength.
Therefore when she received me without words, I presented the gifts, taking each from the hand of the servant and placing it before her. She acknowledged them with a grave inclination of the head, and without looking at them she motioned to her own servants who stood waiting near her, to remove them to another room. But her acceptance of them encouraged me somewhat. Had she declined them, in the language of gift-giving it would have meant that my brother was already refused. I said therefore,
“My honored mother, your son is here and awaits your pleasure.”
“It has been told me,” she replied coldly.
“He has brought the foreigner,” I ventured faintly, thinking it best to tell the worst at once, and yet having at my heart a sinking of spirit.
She was silent. I could make nothing of her face. It was immovable.
“May they approach?” I asked desperately, not knowing what else to say than what we had planned.
“Let him approach,” she replied in the same voice.
I hesitated, not knowing how to proceed. Was not the foreigner even then upon the very threshold? I went to the door where they stood waiting, and putting aside the curtain, I told my brother what our mother had said, and that he had better come first and alone.
His face darkened with the old look I remembered from his youth when something displeased him. He conversed a moment with that one in her own language. She lifted her eyebrows at his words and shrugged very lightly one shoulder, and stood in calm and careless waiting. Then my brother seized her hand swiftly, and before I could stop them they had entered.
How strange a figure she was to enter the great hall of our ancestors! I stood clinging to the curtain, half-fascinated by the sight. The first of alien blood to cross this threshold! My wonder at the thought held my eyes to her, so that for a second I forgot my mother. Even while I knew half-consciously that my brother’s determination not to enter alone must have stopped in an instant my mother’s inclination toward him and her natural longing to see him again, I could not but marvel at the moment.
My brother had chosen clothing of our country for the foreigner to wear, a coat of dull blue silk, very heavy and soft and embroidered lightly with silver. Her skirt was of black satin, perfectly plain except as it hung in straightly planned folds, and on her feet he had caused to be placed black velvet shoes without embroidery. Above these dark colors her skin was white with the white luster of pearls under the moon, and her hair flared like yellow flames about her face. Her eyes were of the blue of stormy and thunderous skies, and her lips drooped in proud repose. She entered erect and haughty, her head thrown back. Her eyes met my mother’s eyes without fear or smiling.
Seeing this, I pressed my hands to my mouth to repress a cry. Why had not my brother told her she should enter with downcast eyes before an elder? For his sake I regretted exceedingly her haughty bearing. She entered as the reigning queen might enter the presence of the imperial dowager.
My mother fixed her eyes upon the foreigner. Their eyes met, and instantly they declared themselves enemies. Then my mother turned her eyes haughtily away and gazed into space beyond the open door.
The foreigner said something to my brother in a calm voice. I knew afterwards it was this,
“Am I to kneel now?”
He nodded, and together they knelt before our mother, and my brother began to speak the words he had previously prepared,
“Most Ancient and Honorable, I am returned from foreign countries at your command, to the kind presence of my parents, I your unworthy son. I rejoice that our mother has seen fit to accept our useless gifts. I say ‘our,’ because I have brought with me my wife, of whom I wrote in a letter through the hand of my friend. She comes as the daughter-in-law of my mother. Although in her veins is foreign blood, she wishes me to tell our honorable mother that since she is married to me, her heart has become Chinese. She takes upon herself voluntarily the race and customs of our family. She renounces her own. Her sons will be altogether of our celestial nation, citizens of the Bright Republic, and heirs of the Middle Empire. She gives her homage.”
He turned to the foreign one, who had been waiting quietly as he spoke, and gave her a signal. With surpassing dignity she bowed until her forehead touched the floor at my mother’s feet. Three times did she bow, and then she and my brother bowed together three times more. Then they arose and awaited my mother’s words.
For a long time she said nothing. Her eyes were still fixed, as they had been throughout, upon those open spaces of the courtyard beyond the door. Minutes she remained thus, silent, haughty, erect.
I think she was inwardly confused at my brother’s daring to disobey her by bringing the foreigner before her when she had said he was to come alone. I think she was silent, wondering how to meet the difficult moment. A spot of red came into either cheek, and in her delicate jaw I saw a muscle beat. But in her stately bearing there was no outward sign of confusion.
She sat with both hands folded upon the silver head of her cane. Her eyes did not waver as she gazed over their heads. The two waited before her. The silence in the hall became heavy with their waiting.
Then suddenly something broke the sternness of my mother’s face. It changed. The color receded as quickly as it had come, and her cheeks became ashen. One hand fell loosely into her lap, and her eyes dropped uncertainly to the floor. Her shoulders drooped, and she shrank a little into her chair. She said with a hurried faintness,
“My son—my son—you are always welcome—to your home. Later I will talk—now you are dismissed.”
My brother lifted his eyes then to her face and searched it. He had not such a keen gaze as I, but even he knew something was wrong. He hesitated, then glanced at me. I saw that he wished to speak further, to remonstrate with her for her coldness. But I was alarmed for her. I shook my head at him. He spoke a word to the foreigner then, and they bowed and withdrew.
I flew to my mother’s side then, but she motioned me away without a word. I longed to ask her forgiveness, but she would not allow me to speak. I could see that she was exhausted by some secret pain. I was not to be permitted to remain. I bowed therefore, and slowly I turned away. But from the court I looked back, and I saw her walking slowly back to her own apartments, leaning heavily upon two slaves.
Sighing, I returned to my home. I can make nothing of the future, ponder it as I may.
As for those two, my brother and the foreigner, those two who break my mother’s heart, they went away for the rest of that day upon one of their long walks, and when night came they returned, and we did not speak together.