Chapter 6 No.6

My Dear One,

"The five worst infirmities that afflict the female are indocility,

discontent, slander, jealousy, and silliness. The worst of them all, and

the parent of the other four, is silliness. "Does that not sound familiar

to thine ears? Life is serious here in thine ancestral home since we

have taken to ourselves a daughter-in-law. The written word for trouble

is two women beneath one rooftree, and I greatly fear that the wise

man who invented writing had knowledge that cost him dear. Perhaps

he, too, had a daughter-in-law.

Yet, with it all, Li-ti is such a child. Ah, I see thee smile. Thou sayest

she is only three years less in age than I; yet, thou seest, I have had

the honour of living a year by the side of thy Most August Mother and

have acquired much knowledge from the very fountain-head of

wisdom. Perchance Li-ti also will become a sage, if-- she be not

gathered to her ancestors before her allotted time, which depends

upon the strength of body and mind which they may have willed her.

To me she is the light of this old palace. She is the true spirit of

laughter, and, "When the happy laugh, the Gods rejoice." She is

continually in disgrace with thine Honourable Mother, and now the

Elder One has decided that both she and Mah-li, thy sister, shall

learn a text from the sage Confucius each day for penance. They are

now in the inner courtyard, studying the six shadows which attend the

six virtues. I can hear them saying over and over to each other, "Love

of goodness without the will to learn casts the shadow called

foolishness--" now a laugh-- then again they begin, "Love of

knowledge without the will to learn casts the shadow called

instability--" giggle and much talking. I am afraid they will never arrive

at the shadow cast the love of truth, and after I have written thee I will

go in and help them, that they may not be reprimanded.

Li-ti takes her duties now most seriously, these same duties

consisting of dressing for the day. In the morning she seats herself

before her mirror, and two maids attend her, one to hold the great

brass bowl of water, the other to hand her the implements of her toilet.

While the face is warm she covers it with honey mixed with perfume,

and applies the rice-powder until her face is as white as the rice itself.

Then the cheeks are rouged, the touch of red is placed upon the lower

lip, the eyebrows are shaped like the true willow leaf, and the hair is

dressed. Her hair is wonderful (but I say within, my hearty not so long

or so thick as mine), and she adorn it with many jewels of jade and

pearls. Over her soft clothing of fine linen she draws the rich

embroidered robes of silk and satin. Then her jewels, earrings, beads,

bracelets, rings, the tiny mirror in the embroidered case, the bag with

its rouge and powder fastened to her side by long red tassels. When

all things are in place, she rises a being glorified, a thing of beauty

from her glossy hair to the toe of her tiny embroidered shoe. I watch

her with a little envy, because when thou wast here I did the same.

Now that my husband is away, it is not meet that I make myself too

seemly for other eyes. The rouge brush and the powder have not been

near my face, and I have searched my clothing chests to find gowns

fitting for a woman who is alone.

Thy Mother says poor Li-ti is o'ervain, and repeats to her the saying,

"More precious in a woman is a virtuous heart than a face of beauty."

But I say she is our butterfly, she brings the joys of summer. One

must not expect a lace kerchief to hold tears, and she fulfills her

woman's destiny. Chih-peh, thy brother, is inexpressibly happy. He

adores his pretty blossom. He follows her with eyes worship, and

when she is in disgrace with thine August Mother, he is desolate.

When needs be she is sent to her apartment, he wanders round and

round the courtyards until the Honourable One has retired from sight,

then he hurriedly goes to his beloved. Soon I hear them laughing

gaily, and know the storm is over.

The rains have come and we cannot pass long days upon the terrace.

The whole valley is shrouded in grey mists and the peasants have

gone from the fields. The path down the mountain-side is empty,

except for the men with the great umbrella hats and capes of straw,

bringing the vegetables to the monastery below. The old abbot of the

monastery is in great trouble. Some men have come and wish to

erect long poles with wires on them. It is feared it will interrupt the

feng-shui of the temple, the good spirits of the air cannot pass, and

will rest upon these ugly poles instead of coming to the temple

rooftree. The abbot has wailed and gone to the magistrate; but he will

not interfere, as the men have many tens of thousands of sycee and

quite likely will work their will.

Such foolish letters as I write thee! They are filled with the little life

that passes within the women's courtyard. It is all the life I know. My

world is bounded by these walls, and I ask no more.

I am thy loving wife.