"Yes, I remembered Doctor Strike," said Mah-li. "He is a very good man. Every one in Soochow said he was a very good man." "He is a great friend of China," said Megan; "he admires China very much." "Yes, he is a very good man," Mah-li repeated politely and indifferently, and Megan was annoyed to see that measured on some invisible scale of hers Doctor Strike did not weigh very heavily. She would have liked to force an appreciation of Doctor Strike on Mah-li but instead she said: "You must have learned your excellent English from the Mission. Did you?" "Yes, I learned to speak English and to embroider and to cook and to use a typewriter." "Really? That is splendid. I can't use a typewriter myself. Do you--that is--do you do any typing ever?" "No. And I don't embroider." After a moment she added, "I don't cook either." "Well, you speak English anyway!" Megan smiled heartily, a little disconcerted by the apparent uselessness of Mah-li's foreign-learned accomplishments. "It seems to be one of the benefits of education that one learns a great deal for which one has no use. But it is all training. It develops one, makes one more efficient." "More what?" said Mah-li. "Well, more able to handle whatever comes up. One doesn't always know what one's needs are going to be. I don't think any training is ever really lost." "No," said Mah-li and added, from pure politeness apparently, "A Christian education is very nice." Megan was sure Mah-li was finding this conversation hopelessly dull, her look of pleased curiosity had gone. She looked a little sleepy, like a child. "Have you ever been to Soochow?" Mah-li asked. "No, I've just come to China. I've only been here a few days. I came here to be married." "_Aiya!_" A gleam of interest returned to Mah-li's eyes. Her eyebrows lifted perceptibly. "To Doctor Strike?" she asked. "No, no," Megan laughed. "Doctor Strike is old enough to be my father!" It was the first reason she had thought of but she realized at once it would be the least effective to Mah-li. And she again felt a necessity for explaining her presence with the Doctor at the North Station. But she gave it up. They would have plenty of other times to talk and she sighed from sudden physical weariness. Mah-li got instantly to her feet. A flicker rather like vexation crossed her face. "I am afraid I tire you. I had better go." She spoke a little stiffly and Megan had an impression of vanity revealed for a moment, an attribute so unsuspected in Mah-li that she could not take in its quality or extent. "I wish you wouldn't go," she protested. "You have been so kind to me and I have had no chance to thank you properly." Mah-li smiled a little constrainedly and stood by; the table, resting her finger-tips on it lightly, poised between going and staying.