Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/62

 Blossom. He clicked his teeth together as he beheld her. It was well. When he acquainted her father with his desires, her father felt justly complimented. Here was a connection that mitigated somewhat the stigma of being possessor of a girl-child. Not for a moment did he imagine the arrangements would not be to the liking of his daughter. Nor did he care. The mighty Mandarin who was to be her husband was one of the richest men in China. The fact that he was four times her age, withered and ugly, mattered not a trifle. Here was more luck than had ever come his way before.

When Lotus Blossom heard of her good fortune she rebelled. She did not intend to marry the man of her father's choosing. Her love was all for gentle Hung Long Tom who chanted poems to her so beautifully. She begged her father to have mercy upon her. Her entreaties met with cold fury. The mind of the Mandarin was made up. Perhaps the present of thirty bits of jade of thirty blended colors which he had received from the prospective bridegroom had dulled his ears.