KAI LUNG'S GOLDEN HOURS
the matter was one of moment, but the profusion of lights before the Ancestral Tablets and the various symbols arranged upon the table showed that the occasion was to be regarded as one involving irrevocable issues.
"Weng Cho," said his father dispassionately, from his seat at the head of the table, "draw near, and first pledge the Ancient Ones whose spirits hover above their Tablets in a vessel of wine."
"I am drinking affliction and move under the compact of a solemn vow," replied Weng fixedly, "therefore I cannot do this; nor, as signs are given me to declare, will the forerunners of our line, who from their high places look down deep into the mind and measure the heart with an impartial rod, deem this an action of disrespect to their illustrious shades."
"It is well to be a sharer of their councils," said Wu Chi, with pointed insincerity. "But," he continued, in the same tone, "for whom can Weng Cho of the House of Wu mourn? His father is before him in his wonted health; in the inner chamber his mother plies an unfaltering needle; while from the Dragon Throne the supreme Emperor still rules the world. Haply, however, a thorn has pierced his little finger, or does he perchance bewail the loss of a favourite bird?"
"That thorn has sunk deeply into his existence, and the memory of that loss still dims his eyes with bitterness," replied Weng. "Bid the rain cease to fall when the clouds are heavy."
"The comparison is ill-chosen," cried Wu Chi harshly. "Rather should the allusion be to the evil tendency of a self-willed branch which, in spite of the continual watering of precept and affection, maintains
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