Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team MADAME CHRYSANTHEME By PIERRE LOTI TRANSLATED BY LAURA ENSOR THE MODERN LIBRARY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK _Manufactured in the United States of America_ _Bound for_ THE MODERN LIBRARY _by H. Wolff_ TO MADAME LA DUCHESSE DE RICHELIEU. _Madame La Duchesse_, _Allow me to crave your acceptance of the following work, as a respectful tribute of my attachment._ _I felt some hesitation in offering it, for its main incident cannot be deemed altogether proper; but I have striven that in its expression at least, it should not sin against good taste, and I trust that my endeavours have been successful._ _It is the diary of a summer of my life, in which I have changed nothing, not even the dates, thinking as I do, that in our efforts to_ arrange _matters we often only succeed in disarranging them. Although the most important rôle may appear to devolve on Madame Chrysantheme, it is very certain that the three principal personages are_ myself, Japan, _and the effect produced on me by that country._ _Do you remember a certain photograph_--_rather ridiculous I must admit_--_representing that big fellow Yves, a Japanese girl and myself, grouped closely together as we were placed side by side by a Nagasaki artist? You smiled when I assured you that the carefully combed little creature placed between us two, had been_ one of our neighbours. _Kindly welcome my book with the same indulgent smile, without seeking therein a meaning either good or bad, in the same spirit that you would receive some quaint bit of pottery, some grotesquely carved ivory idol, or some preposterous trifle brought back for you from this singular fatherland of all preposterousness._ _Believe me with the deepest respect, Madame la Duchesse,_ _Your affectionate_ PIERRE LOTI. INTRODUCTION At sea, about two o'clock in the morning, on a clear night, under a star-lit sky. Yves stood near me on the bridge, and we were talking of the country, so utterly unknown to us both, to which the chances of our destiny were now wafting us. As we were to cast anchor the following day, we enjoyed the state of expectation, and formed a thousand plans. "As for me," I said, "I shall at once marry." "Ah!" returned Yves, with the indifferent air of a man whom nothing can surprise. "Yes--I shall choose a little yellow-skinned woman with black hair and cat's eyes. She must be pretty. Not much bigger than a doll. You shall have a room in our house. A little paper house, in the midst of green gardens, prettily shaded. We shall live among flowers, everything around us shall blossom, and each morning our dwelling shall be filled with nosegays, nosegays such as you have never dreamt of."