Page:Leaves from my Chinese Scrapbook - Balfour, 1887.djvu/207

 dear flowers, I have loved you all my life; you never lost a petal or a leaf before. Who could think such sad misfortunes were coming on us all to-day?" Then he fell to sighing and bemoaning himself afresh; the crushed; bruised blossoms lay strewn in sad disorder on his lap; to-morrow, perchance, he would be driven out of his lovely garden altogether.

"What are you crying about, Mr. Tsiu?" suddenly inquired a sharp, clear, pleasant little voice at his elbow. Tsiu turned his head, not a little startled, and beheld, close by him, a lovely and elegant girl of about sixteen summers. He had no idea who she was, or how she had got in; but there she was, and she looked very much indeed as though she meant it.

"Who are you, my little girl?" replied Tsiu, wiping his eyes; "and what has brought you here?"

"Oh, we are near neighbours—I and my family," rejoined the girl, in her sweet, sharp voice, which acted like a tonic upon the old man's unstrung nerves. "I've heard that you have the finest moutan-flowers to be seen anywhere, so I thought I should like to come and look about me a bit. But what is the reason of all this ruin and desolation I see? Who has been murdering all your flowers like this?"

At the mention of his moutan-flowers Tsiu very nearly broke down again; but he mastered his emotion, and told the cheery little girl all about the outrages of Chang To his perplexity, however, she only laughed; she didn't seem to pity him a bit.

"So that is it, is it? " she replied, with a pretty smile. "Now, wouldn't you like to be able to stick all these flowers on their stems again?"