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Here she fled in honourable confusion, leaving this person standing in the street, astounded, and a prey to the most distinguished emotions of a complicated nature.

“Oh, Tien,” he cried at length, “inspired by those bright eyes, narrower than the most select of the three thousand and one possessed by the sublime Buddha, the almost fallen Kin Yen will yet prove himself worthy of your esteemed consideration. He will, without delay, learn to draw two new living persons, and will incorporate in them the likenesses which you have suggested.”

Returning swiftly to his abode, he therefore inscribed and despatched this letter, in proof of his resolve:

“To the Heaven-sent human chrysanthemum, in whose body reside the Celestial Principles and the imprisoned colours of the rainbow.

“From the very offensive and self-opinionated picture-maker.

“Henceforth this person will take no rest, nor eat any but the commonest food, until he shall have carried out the wishes of his one Jade Star, she whose teeth he is not worthy to blacken.

“When Kin Yen has been entrusted with a story which contains a being in some degree reflecting the character of Tien, he will embellish it with her irreproachable profile and come to hear her words. Till then he bids her farewell.”

From that moment most of this person’s time was necessarily spent in learning to draw the two new characters, and in consequence of this he lost much work, and, indeed, the greater part of the connexion which he had been at such pains to form gradually slipped away from him. Many months passed before he was competent to reproduce persons resembling Tien and himself, for in this he was unassisted by Tieng Lin, and his progress was slow.

At length, being satisfied, he called upon the least fierce of those who sit in easy-chairs, and requested that he might be entrusted with a story for picture-making.

“We should have been covered with honourable joy to set in operation the brush of the inspired Kin Yen,” replied the other with agreeable condescension; “only at the moment, it does not chance that we have before us any stories in which funerals, or beggars being driven from the city, form the chief incidents. Perhaps if the polished Kin Yen should happen to be passing this ill-constructed office in about six months’ time–“

“The brush of Kin Yen will never again depict funerals, or labourers arranging themselves to receive pay or similar subjects,” exclaimed this person impetuously, “for, as it is well said, ‘The lightning discovers objects which the paper-lantern fails to reveal.’ In future none but tales dealing with the most distinguished persons shall have his attention.”

“If this be the true word of the dignified Kin Yen, it is possible that we may be able to animate his inspired faculties,” was the response. “But in that case, as a new style must be in the nature of an experiment, and as our public has come to regard Kin Yen as the great exponent of Art Facing in One Direction, we cannot continue the exceedingly liberal payment with which we have been accustomed to reward his elegant exertions.”

“Provided the story be suitable, that is a matter of less importance,” replied this person.

“The story,” said the one in the easy-chair, “is by the refined Tong-king, and it treats of the high-minded and conscientious doubts of one who would become a priest of Fo. When preparing for this distinguished office he discovers within himself leanings towards the religion of Lao-Tse. His illustrious scruples are enhanced by his affection for Wu Ping, who now appears in the story.”

“And the ending?” inquired this person, for it was desirable that the two should marry happily.

“The inimitable stories of Tong-king never have any real ending, and this one, being in his most elevated style, has even less end than most of them. But the whole narrative is permeated with the odour of joss-sticks and honourable high-mindedness, and the two characters are both of noble birth.”