Page:Mr. Wu (IA mrwumilnlouisejo00milniala).pdf/130

 Carruthers said something brief, and then looked about to take his leave of the cousin, and wondered to see her slipping stealthily away and out of sight. She was a funny little bunch, he thought.

"Father hardly brought his garden-party manners with him, did he?" Hilda said unconcernedly to her mother, as they and Carruthers passed from the garden, four blue-robed Chinese, with great lanterns swinging from their hands, in close attendance, and Ah Wong just behind them.

"No," his wife said wearily. "And I'm afraid he didn't leave many behind, either."

Except for a group of silent, motionless serving-men, Robert Gregory and Wu Nang Ping were alone in the darkening garden now.

He held out his hand to her. "Good-by, Miss Wu."

She did not take it, but she bowed to him deeply, and because he was Basil's father and she thought that she should not see him again she gave him the utmost obeisance of Chinese ceremony, sinking quite down to the ground. That extremest collapse of leg and knee, the ko'tow of utmost reverence, is reserved, as a rule, for an Emperor, an imperial mother or first wife, the grave of Confucius in the Kung cemetery, outside K'iuh-fu (where only the crystal tree will grow) and for the tablets of one's own ancestral dead.

"Oh! To be sure," he said good-naturedly enough, letting his extended hand drop to his side. "Well, good-by and good luck. I had hoped to meet our interesting friend. I had quite a lot to say to him. But I'm pleased to have met you, even if I don't think much of your tea. You must come up to our hotel one day, and Mrs. Gregory and Hilda'll give you the prime stuff. Good-by." He added to himself only half under his