Chapter 8 No.8

My Dear One,

I am carrying a burden for another that is causing me much sorrow.

Dost thou remember Chen-peh, who is from my province and who

married Ling Peh-yu about two moons after I came to thy household?

She came to me yesterday in dire distress. She is being returned to

her home by her husband's people, and, as thou knowest, if a woman

is divorced shame covers her until her latest hour. I am inexpressibly

saddened, as I do not know what can be done. The trouble is with his

mother and, I fear, her own pride of family. She cannot forget that she

comes from a great house, and she is filled with pride at the

recollection of her home. I have told her that the father and mother of

one's husband should be honoured beyond her own. I can see that

she has failed in respect; and thus she merits condemnation. We

have all learned as babes that "respect" is the first word in the book of

wisdom. I know it is hard at times to still the tongue, but all paths that

lead to peace are hard.

She will remain with me two nights. Last night she lay wide-eyed,

staring into the darkness, with I know not what within her soul. I

begged her to think wisely, to talk frankly with her husband and his

mother, to whom she owes obedience. There should be no pride

where love is. She must think upon the winter of her days, when she

will be alone without husband and without children, eating bitter rice of

charity, though 'tis given by her people. I put her in remembrance of

that saying of the poet:

"Rudely torn may be a cotton mantle,

yet a skillful hand may join it;

Snapped may be the string where pearls are threaded,

yet the thread all swiftly knotted;

But a husband and his wife,

once parted, never more may meet."

I must not bring thee the sorrows of another. Oh, dear one, there will

never come 'twixt thee and me the least small river of distrust. I will

bear to thee no double heart, and thou wilt cherish me and love me

always.

Thy Wife.