Accordingly, when Weng returned at his usual hour he found his father awaiting him with curbed impatience.  That Wu Chi should summon him into his presence in the great hall was of itself an omen that the matter was one of moment, but the profusion of lights before the Ancestral Tablets and the various symbols arranged upon the table showed that the occasion was to be regarded as one involving irrevocable issues.

“Weng Cho,” said his father dispassionately, from his seat at the head of the table, “draw near, and first pledge the Ancient Ones whose spirits hover above their Tablets in a vessel of wine.”

“I am drinking affliction and move under the compact of a solemn vow,” replied Weng fixedly, “therefore I cannot do this; nor, as signs are given me to declare, will the forerunners of our line, who from their high places look down deep into the mind and measure the heart with an impartial rod, deem this an action of disrespect to their illustrious shades.”

“It is well to be a sharer of their councils,” said Wu Chi, with pointed insincerity.  “But,” he continued, in the same tone, “for whom can Weng Cho of the House of Wu mourn?  His father is before him in his wonted health; in the inner chamber his mother plies an unfaltering needle; while from the Dragon Throne the supreme Emperor still rules the world.  Haply, however, a thorn has pierced his little finger, or does he perchance bewail the loss of a favourite bird?”

“That thorn has sunk deeply into his existence, and the memory of that loss still dims his eyes with bitterness,” replied Weng.  “Bid the rain cease to fall when the clouds are heavy.”

“The comparison is ill-chosen,” cried Whu Chi harshly.  “Rather should the allusion be to the evil tendency of a self-willed branch which, in spite of the continual watering of precept and affection, maintains its perverted course, and must henceforth either submit to be bound down into an appointed line, or be utterly cut off so that the tree may not suffer.  Long and patiently have I marked your footsteps, Weng Cho, and they are devious.  This is not a single offence, but it is no light one.  Appointed by the Board of Ceremony, approved of by the Emperor, and observed in every loyal and high-minded subject are the details of the rites and formalities which alone serve to distinguish a people refined and humane from those who are rude and barbarous.  By setting these observances at defiance you insult their framers, act traitorously towards your sovereign, and assail the foundations of your House; for your attitude is a direct reflection upon others; and if you render such a tribute to one who is incompetent to receive it, how will you maintain a seemly balance when a greater occasion arises?”

“When the earth that has nourished it grows cold the leaves of the branch fall—­doubtless the edicts of the Board referred to having failed to reach their ears,” replied Weng bitterly.  “Revered father, is it not permitted that I should now depart?  Behold I am stricken and out of place.”