- coiled a little, with a slight breath of surprise. This
morning in Hong Kong Wu had only half seemed to her un-English. Here, in his own house, and clad as she had never seen any one—stiff, gorgeous robes, tiny fan of ivory and silk, a mandarin's necklace of cornelian beads—he was intensely Chinese, barbarian, unknown, and she felt very far from home.
Wu made the motion of salutation with his fan—it is so the Chinese "bow"—before he said reverentially, "This is indeed an honor—none the less felt because it was expected."
Mrs. Gregory laughed a little nervously, but somewhat reassured by his voice, as he had intended her to be, "You startled me, Mr. Wu," she said. "I hardly expected"
"This dress?" he said pleasantly. "It is put on in your honor. To have received you in my Chinese home in other than Chinese garb would have been a rudeness—and so, impossible. Hong Kong is your Queen's now, even its city's legal name—though custom-ridden tongues still stubbornly say 'Hong Kong'—and there, where I am but a business man among business men, I dress as Europeans do. I find it more convenient. And a long residence in Europe makes it easy. But this is China. You are indeed in China now, madame—as truly in China as if you were within the vermilion walls of the great imperial palace or in evil Hwangchukki. The Kowloon territory ceded to England in 1860 ends a yard beyond my gates. My kinswoman seems remiss to you, I fear," he continued. "But pray dismiss the thought. She has gone to give an order for your entertainment and to assume her best robes in your honor—robes she may not wear to the gate."
"Oh! but she was very splendid, and I thought how
