There was something of pathos in this descent from the heights of his great projects. He had given me a glimpse of the purposes nearest his heart, had shown me something of the real man that lay behind the disguise of his impassive face and every-day pursuits. But he closed the door of his soul with a sudden contraction of his eyes, and said in a matter-of-fact tone: "And now are you tired of the girl I intrusted to you? Is she still a convalescent?" "Why, we have no thought of surrendering her," I said, in some surprise that he should renew the subject. "She is improving rapidly. She is able to walk about, and is considered a most tractable patient." "That is very satisfactory," began Big Sam, but I interrupted: "There is only one question agitating us about her. She seems so much above the women of your race we see about us that we should like to know something of her history." Big Sam bowed courteously, as though I had offered him a compliment. "I see that you are looking for a romance," he said. "Well, possibly I can gratify you. I had supposed myself that she sprang from a low parentage--or at highest from the shopkeeper class--though, as you say, she seems much above the Chinese women you are privileged to see. She came hither from an orphan home in Canton, and was said to be of unknown parentage. I have made further inquiries, however, and have just received a letter from a friend in Canton with a few details that may please you. The girl is the daughter of a mandarin, descended from a long line of scholars. But her father, mother, brothers and all known relatives perished in the plague, their fortune was confiscated, and the girl--then an infant--was turned over to the keeping of the orphanage." "That is very interesting. Is there any chance of establishing her rights?" "Not the slightest. But you will be glad to hear that I shall soon have a home for her among her own people." Big Sam was, as usual, coming to his point by indirection. "I trust it is one you can recommend," I said bluntly. "It is one that exactly fills the conditions under which the girl was taken," he responded dryly. "A reputable man of her own race--a merchant--wishes to make her his wife." "He is well-to-do, I assume." "Naturally, or he would not be able to meet the demands of the tongs." "Has he another wife?" I asked, with mistrust of the Chinese domestic arrangements. "None." "In that case, I think he may be ready to offer his credentials in something less than a month." "He will find it difficult to repress his impatience," said Big Sam gravely. "He is a widower." And with a bow of ceremony he dismissed me. *CHAPTER XXXII* *THE ANSWER*