The Inverted House
house lives in me. I have given it personality. I have given it life. It has been builded into the ground and it has taken root. The house of Yuan Shi Kai shall go on through the ages endlessly like an old banyan tree or a gnarled, knotted oak whose fibre is stronger than bars of iron."
He led the way out into the great hall and Ras Orla followed him. He was immensely impressed. His curiosity was at drum-pitch. The floors of the corridors were carpeted in rich rugs, rugs as soft as the loam of a pine forest. The air was heavy with incense. Here and there about the halls were tables on which stood carved tigers and quaintly painted vases disposed with charming negligence. At intervals there were lanterns lighted, yellow and blue, green and rich purple. They preserved a wondrous color-harmony that never clashed. There were no windows in the winding halls, for Chinamen care little for fresh air. Given in its place warm fragrance, they are satisfied.
At the end of one of the corridors was a wide staircase. Down this Yuan Shi Kai led the way. The floor below was even more gorgeous than that above. At least the halls were. They were wider. The vases, the carved statues, the pearl inlaid tables, the fine tapestries were of greater value. Even the perfume on the air was slightly more exquisite.
It would have been delightful to have lingered among the vases and tapestries but Yuan Shi Kai was impatient. He wished to keep on. So together they de-
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