Page:Frank Owen - The Scarlett Hill, 1941.djvu/34

 blessed with far-sightedness. He had attained wealth and tranquillity. Although he could not decipher the characters which the lightning wrote upon the sky, he knew that it must be a blessing for the house of Yang. There was no discord in thunder. The superior man is without fear. In its place is abiding surety that all will be well. Because of his foresight, his position at Court would be enhanced. He might be raised to the rank of Duke, honored with insignia of "The Riding Cape" and placed in charge of a province.

From the sleeve of his jacket, he drew a few almonds which he munched contentedly. The wind had stilled in the willows as though to bid Yuhan adieu. The trees stood on tiptoe to catch a last glimpse of her. The flowers wept. It was a somber parting. Since childhood, she had played in the garden. In that garden she had studied dancing, recited the Classics, painted figures on fans with graceful brush strokes, while the wind ruffled her hair, and the trees swayed in rhythm—the rhythm of life and peace and glowing health. For subjects, she chose the dwarf pine trees near the edge of Pavilion Lake, the bird-houses of the orioles, the moon bridge at Lotus Pond. And sometimes she painted mountains, mountains of dream and slumber shadows, mountains with lofty peaks and snow-winding roads. Yes, the wind would miss her as he tore through the garden on mysterious quests.

As Uncle Yang munched almonds, he quoted Mencius: "Which service is greatest? The greatest is to serve our kin. Which watch is the greatest? The greatest is to