David looked at her strangely. “Our goodness has not saved us elsewhere in the world,” he said.
“Those other foreign peoples are unreasonable,” Peony retorted. “We have been taught reason with our mothers’ milk.”
Upon this she went away, and the more she pondered what David had said, the more she was not certain whether it had been well to have him grateful to the Empress or whether it were a good sign that she had made him feel foreign again. Peony sighed and for the first time wished that a day had been set for their return to their own city.
There was no time for thinking or wishing on the morrow, be sure of that. All day Kueilan spent in bathing and powdering and dressing, and the hairline of her forehead must be straightened and every little hair pulled out that did not lie flat, and only Peony could do this without hurting her. The long fingernail on the third finger of her right hand broke off and this made her shed tears of anger.
“How shall I hide this?” she demanded of Peony, and she held out her little hand, which was still like a lotus bud.
“We will put the silver shield on just the same,” Peony replied. “Who will know the nail is gone beneath? Sit still, Lady, please, and let others serve you, lest you break another nail.”
By now it was her feet that distressed Kueilan. She looked with much distaste upon her shoes, which needed to be so much larger than they had been. “I am ashamed to show these huge countrywoman’s feet,” she declared to Peony. “I wish I had never listened to what you said.”
“Your lord was very pleased, Lady,” Peony reminded her, forgetting that she was not to speak of him.
“Only for a day or two,” Kueilan said pouting. “He never sees my feet now. He has forgotten all my suffering. But I have to see my feet every day and now they will disgrace me before the empresses. I dare say their feet are very tiny!”
Peony remembered her books at this moment. “No, Mistress, there you are wrong. The empresses are Manchu and not Chinese and their feet have never been bound, and therefore how much bigger are they than yours!”
Kueilan exclaimed at this but she was consoled, and at last she was dressed and beautiful and she sat motionless in her chair so as not to spoil her looks while Peony superintended the dressing of the children before her eyes. This, too, was a task needing much patience, for Kueilan did not like the robe for her eldest son, and when at last all were ready, the third son was overcome with excitement and too much noise and he cast up his food and spoiled his garments and had to be made ready afresh.
“I wish it were all over and that I were in bed!” Kueilan exclaimed when she rose at last and went to the gate, where the sedan chairs waited.
“Lady, you will tell your grandchildren of this hour,” Peony said, smiling, to comfort her.
So they set forth, David ahead and all his family behind, and they approached the great foursquare walls of the palace. At the gate they were delayed for bribes to the gatekeepers and then the chairmen were allowed to enter. Then the gates closed again after them and the chairs were set down and David came out first and then waited while they all came out. He surveyed them and felt his pride rise at the sight of his pretty wife and healthy children. Then he turned to Peony anxiously.
“Stay close by each one, Peony! Do not let the little boys run here and there — help their mother to answer well when she is spoken to.”
“Rest your heart,” Peony replied, but her own heart was far from at rest.
So they left him there, and a eunuch led them to an inner gate, and then the Chief Steward met them. He was a tall strong man, a eunuch as all men were in these walls, except the Emperor himself, and Peony instantly disliked his looks. He was handsome, his face full and smooth, his voice high and soft, but cold. But his eyes were not the eyes of a eunuch. He stared at her with instant and insolent admiration, and she looked away. In spite of her wish, she felt herself blush and then she grew cold. What if he took that blush to be a sign that she felt his look? She stayed close to her mistress and she took a hand of each little boy, and together they walked behind the Chief Steward to the gardens. At the gate he paused, and again his insolent eyes were on Peony while he gave them commands in his high cruel voice.
“Their Imperial Majesties are now examining the water lilies,” he told them. “You are to stand by the great pine tree inside the gate. When they pass you must all bow, even to the children. Do not speak unless Their Majesties address you. If they do not speak and pass on, I will lead you away again. If a question is asked, I will repeat it, and you are to answer me, and I will repeat your answer to Their Majesties.”
He led them in, and they waited by a great pine tree and he waited with them. In the distance, among the flowers in the sunshine, they could see the empresses, followed by a score and more of ladies all in beautiful robes of many colors. It was a pretty sight and Peony wished to enjoy it, but she could not because of the Chief Steward. What did he do now but take his place directly behind her? He stood so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her nape, and she knew this meant that he was staring at her hair and at her neck and shoulders. She stepped forward and he stepped forward and suddenly she felt faint. The sunny picture before her swam into a mist, and all the brilliant colors mingled in a rainbow haze. If she stepped farther, it would be unfitting to her mistress, and yet she could not endure the terror of this man behind her. While she wavered she felt him press yet closer, and he made pretense to speak in a low voice: “The tall one is the Western Empress. She will speak if either speaks, for the Eastern Empress never speaks before her.”
While he said this he peered over Peony’s head and she felt his huge body press loathsomely against her. Now she could not bear it, and she slipped to one side and put the third son’s nurse in her place. Peony did not look up while she did this, but he reproved her. “Make no commotion, woman. Their Majesties are near!”
“Be still, Peony!” Kueilan whispered loudly.
What could Peony do but stand? She felt her face flush again and all the joy was spoiled. She scarcely heard what came next and she could scarcely keep from weeping.
For the Western Empress had paused and then the Eastern Empress also and all the ladies.
“Who are these?” the Western Empress now asked of the Chief Steward.
He answered her, and they stood while the Western Empress looked at them. Peony did not lift her eyes, knowing it was forbidden, but she saw the royal hands, one holding a jade fan, the other hanging down empty. They were strong hands for a woman, not small, but beautifully shaped. Upon each finger was a nail shield of gold, embossed and set with jewels. The feet beneath the long robe were in embroidered shoes, and under the shoes were satin soles padded six inches thick to the give the Empress height.
The Eastern Empress did not speak, but the Western Empress looked her fill at the children. “They do look foreign,” she declared to her ladies. “Black hair, but not smooth. The eyes are round, their noses high. Yet they are handsome and they look healthy. I wish our royal son looked so healthy.”
She sighed and ordered sweetmeats given them all and Peony thanked Heaven that the baby did not cry. Then she heard the Western Empress ask yet another question. “Who is this pretty girl?” She knew the question was of her, and she hung her head yet lower.
“She is our bondmaid,” Kueilan told the Chief Steward, and he shouted, “A bondmaid, Majesty!”
“Too pretty for a bondmaid,” the Western Empress said coolly.
That was all. The Western Empress swept on and with her the Eastern Empress and the ladies, and the Chief Steward led them out again. Now he was very affable and he heaped sweetmeats on the children, and he put his hand into his bosom and took out some money.