pavilion, and not a sign of the late revelry was visible; his chairs and tables stood decorously in their accustomed places, unsullied by the remains of fruit or the dregs of wine; all that he noticed was a subtle odour, a faint sweet fragrance different from anything he had ever perceived before.
But the next night, as he was strolling thoughtfully among his flowers in the clear moonlight, he suddenly found himself once more surrounded by his elfin friends. Where they came from he never could find out; it seemed as though they had sprung out of the ground, or been materialised from the sweet aroma of the flowers. At first they seemed not to perceive him, for they were all busily engaged in urging little Pomegranate to beg pardon of the Aunt Wind. Pomegranate, however, was inexorable. "Why should I go supplicating that horrid old woman?" she cried, with flushing cheeks. "If there's likely to be any mischief, let us ask the dear old gentleman to protect us; what need we be afraid of then?" At this suggestion all the sylphs were quite enraptured, and turning to their kindly host, they explained the whole affair. "You see," said the spokeswoman, "that all we sisters live in your garden, and every year we are injured by malignant gales, so that we never feel at ease; we often ask our aunt, the Lady Wind, to treat us kindly and protect us; but now, alas! Pomegranate has mortally offended her, so we cannot count upon her any more. So, dear, kind guardian, we appeal to you; and if you can help us in our extremity, we shall be very grateful."
"But what power have I to help you? " asked Hsuän-wei, more puzzled than before.