Mrs. Spring Fragrance
marriage between his neighbor’s daughter and the San Francisco
school-teacher’s son was all arranged.
“So ’twas,” answered Mr. Chin Yuen; “but, it seems the young renegade,
without consultation or advice, has placed his affections upon some
untrustworthy female, and is so under her influence that he refuses to
fulfil his parents’ promise to me for him.”
“So!” said Mr. Spring Fragrance. The shadow on his brow deepened.
“But,” said Mr. Chin Yuen, with affable resignation, “it is all ordained
by Heaven. Our daughter, as the wife of Kai Tzu, for whom she has long
had a loving feeling, will not now be compelled to dwell with a
mother-in-law and where her own mother is not. For that, we are
thankful, as she is our only one and the conditions of life in this
Western country are not as in China. Moreover, Kai Tzu, though not so
much of a scholar as the teacher’s son, has a keen eye for business and
that, in America, is certainly much more desirable than scholarship.
What do you think?”
“Eh! What!” exclaimed Mr. Spring Fragrance. The latter part of his
companion’s remarks had been lost upon him.
That day the shadow which had been following Mr. Spring Fragrance ever
since he had heard his wife quote, “’Tis better to have loved,” etc.,
became so heavy and deep that he quite lost himself within it.
At home in the evening he fed the cat, the bird, and the flowers. Then,
seating himself in a carved black chair—a present from his wife on his
last birthday—he took out his pipe and smoked. The cat jumped into his
lap. He stroked it softly and tenderly. It had been much fondled by Mrs.
Spring Fragrance, and Mr. Spring Fragrance was under the impression that
it missed her. “Poor thing!” said he. “I suppose you want her back!”
When he arose to go to bed he placed the animal carefully on the floor,
and thus apostrophized it:
“O Wise and Silent One, your mistress returns to you, but her heart she
leaves behind her, with the Tommies in San Francisco.”
The Wise and Silent One made no reply. He was not a jealous cat.
Mr. Spring Fragrance slept not that night; the next morning he ate not.
Three days and three nights without sleep and food went by.
There was a springlike freshness in the air on the day that Mrs. Spring
Fragrance came home. The skies overhead were as blue as Puget Sound
stretching its gleaming length toward the mighty Pacific, and all the
beautiful green world seemed to be throbbing with springing life.
Mrs. Spring Fragrance was never so radiant.
“Oh,” she cried light-heartedly, “is it not lovely to see the sun
shining so clear, and everything so bright to welcome me?”
Mr. Spring Fragrance made no response. It was the morning after the
fourth sleepless night.
Mrs. Spring Fragrance noticed his silence, also his grave face.
“Everything—everyone is glad to see me but you,” she declared, half
seriously, half jestingly.
Mr. Spring Fragrance set down her valise. They had just entered the
house.
“If my wife is glad to see me,” he quietly replied, “I also am glad to
see her!”
Summoning their servant boy, he bade him look after Mrs. Spring
Fragrance’s comfort.
“I must be at the store in half an hour,” said he, looking at his watch.
“There is some very important business requiring attention.”
“What is the business?” inquired Mrs. Spring Fragrance, her lip
quivering with disappointment.
“I cannot just explain to you,” answered her husband.
Mrs. Spring Fragrance looked up into his face with honest and earnest
eyes. There was something in his manner, in the tone of her husband’s
voice, which touched her.
“Yen,” said she, “you do not look well. You are not well. What is it?”
Something arose in Mr. Spring Fragrance’s throat which prevented him
from replying.
“O darling one! O sweetest one!” cried a girl’s joyous voice. Laura Chin
Yuen ran into the room and threw her arms around Mrs. Spring Fragrance’s
neck.
“I spied you from the window,” said Laura, “and I couldn’t rest until I
told you. We are to be married next week, Kai Tzu and I. And all through
you, all through you—the sweetest jade jewel in the world!”
Mr. Spring Fragrance passed out of the room.
“So the son of the Government teacher and little Happy Love are already
married,” Laura went on, relieving Mrs. Spring Fragrance of her cloak,
her hat, and her folding fan. Mr. Spring Fragrance paused upon the
doorstep.
“Sit down, Little Sister, and I will tell you all about it,” said Mrs.
Spring Fragrance, forgetting her husband for a moment.
When Laura Chin Yuen had danced away, Mr. Spring Fragrance came in and
hung up his hat.
“You got back very soon,” said Mrs. Spring Fragrance, covertly wiping
away the tears which had begun to fall as soon as she thought herself
alone.
“I did not go,” answered Mr. Spring Fragrance. “I have been listening to
you and Laura.”
“But if the business is very important, do not you think you should
attend to it?” anxiously queried Mrs. Spring Fragrance.
“It is not important to me now,” returned Mr. Spring Fragrance. “I would
prefer to hear again about Ah Oi and Man You and Laura and Kai Tzu.”
“How lovely of you to say that!” exclaimed Mrs. Spring Fragrance, who
was easily made happy. And she began to chat away to her husband in the
friendliest and wifeliest fashion possible. When she had finished she
asked him if he were not glad to hear that those who loved as did the
young lovers whose secrets she had been keeping, were to be united; and
he replied that indeed he was; that he would like every man to be as
happy with a wife as he himself had ever been and ever would be.
“You did not always talk like that,” said Mrs. Spring Fragrance slyly.
“You must have been reading my American poetry books!”
“American poetry!” ejaculated Mr. Spring Fragrance almost fiercely,
“American poetry is detestable, _abhorrable_!”
“Why! why!” exclaimed Mrs. Spring Fragrance, more and more surprised.
But the only explanation which Mr. Spring Fragrance vouchsafed was a
jadestone pendant.
THE INFERIOR WOMAN
I
Mrs. Spring Fragrance walked through the leafy alleys of the park,
admiring the flowers and listening to the birds singing. It was a
beautiful afternoon with the warmth from the sun cooled by a refreshing
breeze. As she walked along she meditated upon a book which she had some
notion of writing. Many American women wrote books. Why should not a
Chinese? She would write a book about Americans for her Chinese women
friends. The American people were so interesting and mysterious.
Something of pride and pleasure crept into Mrs. Spring Fragrance’s heart
as she pictured Fei and Sie and Mai Gwi Far listening to Lae-Choo
reading her illuminating paragraphs.
As she turned down a by-path she saw Will Carman, her American
neighbor’s son, coming towards her, and by his side a young girl who
seemed to belong to the sweet air and brightness of all the things
around her. They were talking very earnestly and the eyes of the young
man were on the girl’s face.
“Ah!” murmured Mrs. Spring Fragrance, after one swift glance. “It is
love.”
She retreated behind a syringa bush, which completely screened her from
view.
Up the winding path went the young couple.
“It is love,” repeated Mrs. Spring Fragrance, “and it is the ‘Inferior
Woman.’”
She had heard about the Inferior Woman from the mother of Will Carman.
After tea that evening Mrs. Spring Fragrance stood musing at her front
window. The sun hovered over the Olympic mountains like a great, golden
red-bird with dark purple wings, its long tail of light trailing
underneath in the waters of Puget Sound.
“How very beautiful!” exclaimed Mrs. Spring Fragrance; then she sighed.
“Why do you sigh?” asked Mr. Spring Fragrance.
“My heart is sad,” answered his wife.
“Is the cat sick?” inquired Mr. Spring Fragrance.
Mrs. Spring Fragrance shook her head. “It is not our Wise One who
troubles me today,” she replied. “It is our neighbors. The sorrow of the
Carman household is that the mother desires for her son the Superior
Woman, and his heart enshrines but the Inferior. I have seen them
together today, and I know.”
“What do you know?”
“That the Inferior Woman is the mate for young Carman.”
Mr. Spring Fragrance elevated his brows. Only the day before, his wife’s
arguments had all been in favor of the Superior Woman. He uttered some
words expressive of surprise, to which Mrs. Spring Fragrance retorted:
“Yesterday, O Great Man, I was a caterpillar!”
Just then young Carman came strolling up the path. Mr. Spring Fragrance
opened the door to him. “Come in, neighbor,” said he. “I have received
some new books from Shanghai.”
“Good,” replied young Carman, who was interested in Chinese literature.
While he and Mr. Spring Fragrance discussed the “Odes of Chow” and the
“Sorrows of Han,” Mrs. Spring Fragrance, sitting in a low easy-chair of
rose-colored silk, covertly studied her visitor’s countenance. Why was
his expression so much more grave than gay? It had not been so a year
ago—before he had known the Inferior Woman. Mrs. Spring Fragrance noted
other changes, also, both in speech and manner. “He is no longer a boy,”
mused she. “He is a man, and it is the work of the Inferior Woman.”
“And when, Mr. Carman,” she inquired, “will you bring home a daughter to
your mother?”
“And when, Mrs. Spring Fragrance, do you think I should?” returned the
young man.
Mrs. Spring Fragrance spread wide her fan and gazed thoughtfully over
its silver edge.
“The summer moons will soon be over,” said she. “You should not wait
until the grass is yellow.”
“The woodmen’s blows responsive ring,
As on the trees they fall,
And when the birds their sweet notes sing,
They to each other call.
From the dark valley comes a bird,
And seeks the lofty tree,
_Ying_ goes its voice, and thus it cries:
‘Companion, come to me.’
The bird, although a creature small
Upon its mate depends,
And shall we men, who rank o’er all,
Not seek to have our friends?”
quoted Mr. Spring Fragrance.
Mrs. Spring Fragrance tapped his shoulder approvingly with her fan.
“I perceive,” said young Carman, “that you are both allied against my
peace.”
“It is for your mother,” replied Mrs. Spring Fragrance soothingly. “She
will be happy when she knows that your affections are fixed by
marriage.”
There was a slight gleam of amusement in the young man’s eyes as he
answered: “But if my mother has no wish for a daughter—at least, no wish
for the daughter I would want to give her?”
“When I first came to America,” returned Mrs. Spring Fragrance, “my
husband desired me to wear the American dress. I protested and declared
that never would I so appear. But one day he brought home a gown fit for
a fairy, and ever since then I have worn and adored the American dress.”
“Mrs. Spring Fragrance,” declared young Carman, “your argument is
incontrovertible.”
II
A young man with a determined set to his shoulders stood outside the
door of a little cottage perched upon a bluff overlooking the Sound. The
chill sea air was sweet with the scent of roses, and he drew in a deep
breath of inspiration before he knocked.
“Are you not surprised to see me?” he inquired of the young person who
opened the door.
“Not at all,” replied the young person demurely.
He gave her a quick almost fierce look. At their last parting he had
declared that he would not come again unless she requested him, and that
she assuredly had not done.
“I wish I could make you feel,” said he.