***** In the daytime the streets of the ancient city of Canton are yet filled with the original confusion—human beings in quest of food. It was not a hopeful looking group. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. "I'm surprised Mr. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment.
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