Pearl Buck - Peony

“Nothing that I say can be binding,” Kao Lien said, somewhat troubled.

“That is understood,” Kung Chen said.

Little by little skillfully he led Kao Lien along to telling, until by midnight he understood exactly what Kao Lien had seen, how cruel was the plight of the Jews, and how in Ezra’s own house there was division between the Rabbi and Leah and Madame Ezra on the one hand and Ezra on the other. Between these two sides David stood undecided, and in his shadow was the weak and useless Aaron.

“Nor are these two sides unusual to our people,” Kao Lien said thoughtfully. “Everywhere I find them, the Jew of the Covenant and the Jew who wishes only to be human and like any other man.”

“What is this covenant?” Kung Chen asked.

“It is the covenant that we made with God in the beginning,” Kao Lien said half sadly. “A covenant that we would be His people if He would be our God.”

“You believe in such superstition?” Kung Chen asked in surprise.

Kao Lien looked apologetic. “I believe and I do not believe,” he acknowledged. “I was taught the law and the prophets, and it is difficult to forget them. I deny them often and sometimes for years together. But I remember them, and I know that it is as a Jew that I shall die.” He sighed. “Let us have in the singing girls,” he said abruptly. “It is nearly midnight.”

So the girls came in, three of them, all pretty and gentle and trained in the art of pleasing. Ezra woke when their music began and he lay there, his head pillowed on his hands, and he listened and looked at them. When their singing was over the girls hesitated, not knowing whether they were wanted further, but Kung Chen shook his head.

“Nothing else,” he said laughing. “We are old staid men and we must go home to our wives.”

He put money into each little palm and the girls laughed and went away and Ezra got up, sighing, and so they went each to his home.

Kung Chen did not sleep well that night or for several nights to come. The end of his sleeplessness was that he decided that he would not give his Little Three to the House of Ezra and he decided to call her to him and find out how much it mattered to her when he told her so.

After he had eaten his breakfast one morning, therefore, he sent a servant to invite her to come to him, and she sent back word that she would come immediately, as soon as she had brushed her hair.

Hearing this, he settled himself for an hour or two, and toward noon she came led by Chu Ma. He knew this little daughter of his was pretty, but each time he did not see her for a while, he forgot how pretty she was. Now he gazed at her with such pleasure that she blushed, seeing in his eyes the admiration of all men, even though he was her father.

“My father!” she called in greeting from the door.

“Come in, my Little Three,” he said, and she sat down on a chair near him and Chu Ma stood behind her.

He asked her his usual fatherly questions, how she did and what she did, and he admired her silk garments and he asked her whether she had read any books, and how her pet birds were that he had given her, and all such small questions. She answered in a pretty voice, shy and smiling, child and woman together, and he told himself that this little creature must be wed only into the safest and kindest of homes.

So he brought himself to what he wanted to say. “My Little Three,” he began, “the time has come to talk of marriage for you. There is your younger sister, Lili, to think of, and I must have you betrothed first. I should have done so before, had I been a good father, but I dislike these early betrothals. Who knows what a boy will be when he grows up? So I have betrothed all of my daughters late, that I might see my sons-in-law as men. Now it is your turn.”

At this Kueilan turned a deep rosy pink and she took her handkerchief from her sleeve and put it to her face and leaned her head against her nurse so that he could not see her. All this was as she should do.

“Master, you put her to shame!” Chu Ma exclaimed. “These things are not to be mentioned before a young lady.”

“I am very forward, I know,” Kung Chen said smiling, “but I prefer to find out from my daughters themselves how they feel.”

So he went on. “Tell me, child, what sort of husband I shall find you. There is a fine young man in the house of Wei, just a year older than you. I hear good things of him.”

“No,” Kueilan said faintly.

“No?” Kung Chen asked in seeming surprise. “Well, then, I hear the youngest son of the Hu family is handsome.”

“No, no!” she said more strongly.

“This young lady is hard to please!” Kung Chen exclaimed to Chu Ma. He went on somewhat gravely, “I hope you have done your duty. I hope you have not allowed her to see any young man.”

Kueilan began suddenly to sob and Chu Ma looked terrified.

“Ha — what is this?” Kung Chen demanded, pretending to be angry.

Chu Ma fell on her knees before him and knocked her head on the floor and began to babble. “How could I help it? The young man saw her here in this house. She was going to the temple with our lady, her mother, and she sent me to fetch her a handkerchief.”

“It was my fan, stupid!” Kueilan wailed.

“Her fan,” Chu Ma babbled. “And while I was gone the son of the foreigner Ezra came into the hall.”

“But I didn’t stay!” Kueilan cried.

“I swear to my ancestors that she did not stay,” Chu Ma said.

“Get up,” Kung Chen said very sternly to Chu Ma. She got up and stood wiping her eyes. “How much has happened?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” Chu Ma said. Then his eyes frightened the truth out of her. “Well, only a poem or two.”

He turned to his daughter. “How dare you think of a young man?” he demanded.

Now Kueilan had a nice lively temper of her own, and it was her way to weep first and then be angry. So she stamped her foot and said, “I dare anything!”

“I will not have you marry a foreigner,” Kung Chen said.

“I will marry him!” Kueilan cried.

“Oh, hush, hush,” Chu Ma wailed. Kung Chen lit his pipe. “You say that because you are angry,” he told his daughter. “But when you have considered what it means, you will not want to marry into that house. They are a strange people, not like ours. They are a sorrowful people, and they worship a cruel god.”

Kueilan pouted. “I am not afraid,” she declared.

Kung Chen did not answer his willful child. He had found out what he wanted to know.

“I command you to obey me in this one thing,” he said after a long silence. During this silence Kueilan’s anger had been cooled by fear and Chu Ma was frightened pale.

“You are to wait until I have seen for myself this young man,” he told his daughter. “When I am ready, I will tell you what my will is.” He turned to Chu Ma. “And you, woman, if you allow her to disobey me, I will send you out of this house and you shall not come back to it as long as you live.”

Chu Ma trembled. “I will stay with her day and night,” she promised. And she took Kueilan’s hand and led her away.

IN THE HOUSE OF Ezra the Rabbi lived in blind ecstasy. Never would he have acknowledged it, yet it was true that the quiet comfort of the house, the ample food, the space and stillness of the courts comforted him and gave him the surroundings of pleasure.

Because he was there, Madame Ezra was careful that every rite of Sabbath and feast day was performed. She took care, too, to come in when David was with the Rabbi and inquire whether each rite was performed according to the Torah. For through so many years and generations in this heathen land she declared that even she had grown ignorant. Thus the rites of Passover and of Purim had mingled with the Chinese Festival of Spring, and the Feast of First Fruits with the Feast of the Summer Moon, and the sacred ten days of penitence before Yom Kippur came often at the Feast of the New Moon Year, so that even David escaped too easily from the penitence to pleasure.