Page:Frank Owen - The Scarlett Hill, 1941.djvu/18

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This last night was to be Yuhan's. Her uncle had proclaimed it. If her three beautiful sisters envied her, they did not show it. It would not have been fitting, for they were all married. After all, they were not as ambitious as Yuhan, though they were better horsewomen. And never did any of them have to worry over excess of curves. Not infrequently, Yuhan had envied them. But all that was yesterday, before she had been acquainted with the fact that she was so soon to be the property of Prince Shou. Even Uncle Yang was satisfied. He was always pleased with good business arrangements. No vinegar money was Yuhan; she was in truth a Thousand Pieces of Silver. Even the Emperor would be angry if anything happened to Yuhan now.

He had never seen her; all arrangements had been handled by Ministers of the Court. Nor did he care to gaze upon her face. So many women did he possess, one more or less was of less consequence than a boiled turnip. One rare woman like his favorite concubine, Mei-fei, was of more consequence to him than the three thousand odd others who occasionally bore him sons. Not many sons at that compared to the number of women—eighteen, a mere pittance. Mei-fei was treasure indeed. A sweet, gentle nature. In her company, the Emperor found comfort; in her young arms he found strength. As for the Empress—a good woman, but

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