376 CHINESE LITERATURE
By this time all formalities have been gone through and the wedding day is fixed. It is not to be a grand wedding, but of course there must be a trousseau. Pao- ch'ai sometimes weeps, she scarcely knows why ; but preparations for the great event of her life leave her, fortunately, very little leisure for reflection. Tai-yii is in bed, and, but for a faithful slave-girl, alone. Nobody thinks much about her at this juncture ; when the wed- ding is over she is to receive a double share of attention.
One morning she makes the slave-girl bring her all her poems and various other relics of the happy days gone by. She turns them over and over between her thin and wasted fingers until finally she commits them all to the flames. The effort is too much for her, and the slave- girl in despair hurries across to the grandmother's for assistance. She finds the whole place deserted, but a moment's thought reminds her that the old lady is doubtless with Pao-yii. So thither she makes her way as fast as her feet can carry her, only, however, to be still further amazed at finding the rooms shut up, and no one there. Utterly confused, and not knowing what to make of these unlooked-for circumstances, she is about to run back to Tai-yii's room, when to her great relief she espies a fellow-servant in the distance, who straightway informs her that it is Pao-yii's wedding-day, and that he had moved into another suite of apartments. And so it was. Pao-yii had joyfully agreed to the proposition that he should marry his cousin, for he had been skilfully given to understand that the cousin in question was Tai-yii. And now the much wished-for hour had arrived. The veiled bride, accompanied by the very slave-girl who had long ago escorted her from the south, alighted from her sedan-chair at Pao-yii's door. The wedding march was
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