you?”
He opened his small dark eyes, recognized her, and pouted at her. “Don’t wake me,” he muttered.
“But I am going away, dear,” she said.
He lay, half uncomprehending, staring at her.
“Take care of Father, Aaron,” she begged him. “Be good, won’t you, dear Aaron?”
“You’ll be back,” he said thickly.
“Every few days, if I am allowed,” she promised. “And Rachel is here.”
“Well, then,” he retorted, and turned and burrowed into his bed again.
So Leah left him, closing the door softly, and then she went into her father’s room. The Rabbi had got up and dressed himself, and was at his prayers.
“Father,” she said, and he turned. “They have come for me, Father.”
“So early?” he answered. “But let it be so, child. Are you ready?”
She had come near him and he touched her, head, face, shoulders, her hair and dress, his delicate fingers telling him how she was. “Yes, you are ready. And have you eaten?”
“Yes, Father, and Rachel is ready for you to come and eat.”
She wavered and then laid her head against his bosom. “Oh, Father!” she whispered.
He smoothed her hair. “But you will not be far away, child—you will be back every day or so, and think how much better everything will be for us all.”
So he comforted her, and she lifted her head and shook the tears out of her eyes and smiled at him.
“Don’t come to the gate with me, Father. Let me leave you here, and Rachel will come and fetch you.”
So she left him. She did not look back, and with a last word to Rachel she went out of the gate. Yet when the curtains of the sedan were closed about her, she felt that she was going on a far journey, from which there might be no return.
At the house of Ezra Peony waited in the outer court. So Madame Ezra had commanded her through Wang Ma.
“Am I to be a lady’s maid to this foreigner?” Peony had asked when the command came that early morning. She widened her eyes at Wang Ma.
Wang Ma had come near enough to flick Peony’s cheek with her thumb and forefinger. Her sharp nails left a tiny spot.
“If you have any wisdom inside that head of yours, you will not ask what you will do and what you will not do,” Wang Ma advised her. “Had I asked such questions I would not have been in this house today. Obey—obey—and do what you like. The two go together—if you are clever. And now mind that you hurry! The caravan is near. Our master left before dawn to meet it.”
“The caravan?” Peony cried.
“Yes, yes,” Wang Ma said impatiently, and went away. “But Leah is not to know—our mistress commands it.”
Peony had been braiding her hair when Wang Ma came and went, and she finished the long braid. The excitement of the caravan filled her mind for a moment. Then suddenly she forgot it. What had Wang Ma said? “Obey—obey—and do what you like. The two go together—if you are clever.” Strange words, full of meaning! She pondered them, and the meaning began to sink like precious metal into the deep waters of her soul. She smiled to herself suddenly until the two dimples danced on her cheeks.
Instead of coiling her braid over her ear, she let it hang down her back. But into the red cord that bound her hair at her neck she thrust a white gardenia from the court. An old bush grew there, and at this season it bore many blossoms each morning. Peony had chosen to put on a pale blue silk coat and trousers, and now she looked delicate and modest as she stood waiting, and hers was the first face that Leah saw when the curtain of the sedan was lifted. Indeed, Peony herself lifted it, and she smiled into Leah’s eyes.
“Welcome, Lady,” Peony said. “Will you come down from this chair?” She held out her arm for Leah to lean upon, but Leah stepped down without this support. She was a head taller than Peony, and she did not speak, although she answered Peony’s smile.
“Have you eaten, Lady?” Peony asked, following a little behind her.
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