It was very ceremonious and it was fortunate that I was aware of the procedure for there are few places where it is easier to commit a breach of good manners than at a Chinese dinner table. Through the meal from the deem sum, or hors d’oeuvres, through the meat dishes—flavored with lotus seeds and wrapped in the finest dough—to the soup which was made from birds’ nests and the dessert, fruit dipped in a sweet substance that was like toffee, I contrived to do what was expected of me. Toasts were intermittently drunk in shau-shing, a wine distilled from rice. It was sweet and cloying.

“Yam seng,” said Adam and Chan Cho Lan bowed her beautiful head and repeated with him “Yam seng,” as they drained their small porcelain cups.

The rose-scented damp cloths were brought round several times and we wiped our hands; then Chan Cho Lan rose to her feet. Adam took her hand and we fell in behind them while she tottered to another room. Here we sat on pouf-like cushions. There was a dais at one end of the room where musicians were seated.

A gong sounded and dancers came in. I have rarely seen dancers so graceful as those I saw in Chan Cho Lan’s house that day.

The costumes of the dancers were colorful and gay and I quickly realized that there was something symbolic in the dances. They were about lovers and one of the dancers before the dance began would tell us what these movements were meant to portray.

First of all there was the meeting of lovers. Eight young and lovely girls performed this, going through coquettish motions as they approached and retreated. Courtship was portrayed by the girls playing in the fields chasing butterflies. They carried ribbons in their hands and as they danced they released them to form symmetrical shapes; they laughed joyously as they circled and were joined by girls dressed as young men in gay costumes. This was falling in love and the expressions of the dancers ranged from frivolity to seriousness.

Then there was the bridal dance with one graceful girl representing the bride, the other the groom. More dancers—guests at the wedding—performed with joyous abandon.

It stopped when the bridegroom led off his bride and the other dancers fell in behind them.

“Now they live happy ever more,” said Chan Cho Lan.

We clapped our hands and Chan Cho Lan nodded gravely.

“Before you go,” she said, “I wish you see the shrines.”

She was looking at me so I said that I should be delighted.

She bowed and with Adam beside her again led the way along a passage which was lit by lanterns rather similar to those in my house. We came to a door which was covered by brocade. As she opened it, an odor of incense enveloped us. It came from joss sticks burning in the room. An aged man with a long beard, wearing a silk robe which reached to his ankles and with a round hat on his head, bowed to us and stood aside.

There was a hushed air in the room. Then I saw the shrine. It was dazzling; and there dominating it was a statue of Kuan Yin. The goddess was carved in wood and seated on what appeared to be a rocky island. Her beautiful benevolent face smiled at us. Joss sticks burned on the shrine.

“The Goddess of Mercy,” murmured Chan Cho Lan.

“She presides over the shrine,” whispered Adam to me. “And on the walls you see Chan Cho Lan’s ancestors.”

I looked at the paintings of men who all looked alike in their mandarins’ robes with their long beards and hands clasped before them.

I was more interested in the shrine, for around it were etchings portraying the story of the goddess’ life on earth. There she was as a princess being beaten by her father because she refused to marry. In the second picture she was in a nunnery working as a scullery maid. She was seen in various stages of persecution by her wicked father and finally going to paradise. When her father was sick she descended to earth to nurse him. Deified, glorified, she was the goddess to whom all turned in their need.

It was clear that this room with its shrine dedicated to her and Chan Cho Lan’s ancestors was a sacred place and I was surprised that she had allowed us as barbarians to enter it.

We took a ceremonious farewell with much bowing and talk on her side of how miserable the entertainment had been and on ours how unworthy we had been to have been given it, which I must say I found a little irritating. I wanted to thank her and tell her what a wonderful experience it had been and I did so.

As we walked across to The House of a Thousand Lanterns I thought Lottie looked as if she had paid a visit to the paradise of Fō. Yet she was a little sad. I guessed it was because she herself had been brought up in that establishment, yet Chan Cho Lan had never trained her as a dancing girl to entertain her guests, nor had she prepared her for a grand alliance by crippling her feet.

I wondered why. In due course, I promised myself, I would find out.

I talked about it afterwards with Adam.

“Chan Cho Lan seems to be very friendly with you,” I said.

“Our family has been friends with hers for many years and she regards me as the head of ours since Sylvester died. She has quite a history. When she was a child she was chosen to be one of the Emperor’s concubines. He had a great many and some of these were never even seen by the Emperor. To qualify for a concubine a lady must be of noble family. She is sent to the palace and selected for her beauty, grace, and accomplishments. The Emperor does not do the selecting. His mother or his major domo does that. The girls go to the palace at an early age but some of them never have a chance of catching the Emperor’s eyes; they remain in seclusion guarded by eunuchs, always hoping I suppose that the summons will come. It never came for Chan Cho Lan. If it had I am sure the Emperor would have been pleased. It is influence and relations at court who draw their lord’s attention to a girl. In the meantime they live as girls do in a school, and paint on silk and embroider and talk of themselves and what they know of the world—which is precious little—and when they are past their first flush of youth, which is about eighteen years old, they may leave the Emperor’s court and husbands are found for them. Chan Cho Lan was passed to an old mandarin who lived but a year or so after the wedding. Since then she has become a lady of distinction in her own right. Because she was trained in all the graces to charm an Emperor, she decided not to waste her gifts but to bestow them on girls of her choosing. So she took under her wing the selected girls and some she trains to be dancers, as those we have seen today. Others, if they are young enough when they come to her, have their feet bound and are brought up to make good alliances. She assesses the girls and trains them for what she thinks will suit them best. She is a kind of matchmaker or marriage broker, a very profitable business, and it is said that she is one of the richest women in Hong Kong.”

“She seemed interested in me,” I said. “Or did I imagine that?”

“She is—it is because you have a reputation for being an astute businesswoman—very different from her profession of course, but she would wish to know someone who could be as successful as she is. Life has dealt similarly with you, as she would see it, although you are a world apart. Moreover you are a member of our family, and for that alone she would be interested.”

“I have rarely seen you so eager to please,” I could not resist saying.

“I must return politeness with politeness. Moreover in the past she has introduced many a mandarin to my father and me, someone who is looking for some rare statue or painting. She would let us know if someone of her acquaintance had something to dispose of. I want her to continue to do so.”

“Oh,” I said with a smile, “so it’s business after all.”

I could not forget the exquisite grace of the dancers. As for Lottie, she continued to appear bemused.

“You have like dance?” she asked.

“Yes, I liked that.”

“And all leading to the marriage.”

“I suppose it is a common theme,” I said.

Lottie did not understand that. “It was for you,” she said. “It is a sign. You marry soon.”

“It had nothing to do with me personally. It was just the theme of the dance.”

“Was for you,” she said wisely. “One year nearly up.”

“Why Lottie,” I said, “are you not content with things as they are?”

She shook her head vehemently. “Not good for house. The house ask for Master,” she said.

“Well, I am the one who must decide that, Lottie,” I reminded her.

“You decide,” she said confidently. “One year from end of Master you decide.”

Lottie seemed to have made up her mind that I would marry. I was not so sure.


* * *

As I lay in bed I looked up at the lantern swinging from the ceiling.

A thousand lanterns, I thought. Was the secret of this house in the lanterns?

It must be. In what way was this house different from any other? By the fact that it was said to contain a thousand lanterns. I looked round the room. It was not one of the largest in the house. There was the huge lantern hanging from the center and smaller ones placed at intervals round the walls. I counted twenty. Then there was the room in which Jason slept. There must have been about fifteen there.

I said to myself: The secret must be in the lanterns.

There was a pressure of business that day and I forgot about the lanterns, but I remembered that evening.

I had dined and was having coffee when Adam called. I was surprised to see him at this hour but his visit was explained by his excitement over an interesting piece he had bought that day.

“I couldn’t wait to show you,” he said, “I’m sure it’s a discovery. What do you think of it?”

He unwrapped it from a calico bag and held it reverently in his hands.

“It’s an incense burner,” I said.

“That’s so. What dynasty would you say?”

“I should imagine it’s about the second or the first century B.C. If so, I should say the Han Dynasty.”

He smiled at me warmly. He always seemed to be a different person at such times and it was on these occasions that I found myself liking him more and more.

“Where did you find it?” I asked.

“A mandarin friend of Chan Cho Lan wanted to dispose of it. She saw it and I had first chance.”

“I remember an incense burner that Sylvester was particularly fond of,” I said. My voice faltered and Adam looked at me sharply.

“It’s lonely here in this house for you,” he said.

“I’m all right. I have Jason… and Lottie is a great comfort to me.”

He looked gratified and nodded as though to remind me that he had brought her to me. “You are pale,” he went on solicitously, almost tenderly. “Do you get out enough?”

“Why yes.”

“But you can’t take walks as you did in England. Would you like to take a walk now? We’ll go round the gardens and to the pagoda. What do you think?”

“Yes,” I said, “I would like to. I’ll get a wrap.”

I went upstairs, looking in at Jason who was fast asleep and came down to Adam.

Walking was always an interesting experience at The House of a Thousand Lanterns. In the courtyards were paths over which were arches covered in climbing plants; one could walk right round the house along these paths. But I always felt it was restricting within the walls, and I liked to go through all four gates and outside to the pagoda.

This we did and I could never step inside the place without thinking of Joliffe’s waiting for me there and stepping out to catch me as I entered.

The pagoda was eerie by night. A faint shaft of light shone through the roof and fell on the face of the goddess.

“I should have loved to see it as it was when it was a temple,” I said.

Adam agreed with me.

“What a still night. It will soon be the Feast of the Dragon. On the fifth day of the fifth month he is supposed to be in a cruel mood. You’ll see some fantastic craft on the water and on land too. Dragons breathing fire, and gongs beating to divert him from his wicked purposes.”

“Jason will be thrilled. And I must say I always find these processions exciting. I suppose I shall get used to them in time… if I stay here.”

“But of course you’ll stay here. Your life will be spent here… and at home. But that’s how it is with all of us.”

“How long before you go home?” I asked.