“Well, I don’t believe I could repeat it word for word, for the life of me,” Lis confessed. “It was too high-flown and Chinese—not a word less than three syllables, and most of ‘em more. But the gist of the matter is that he’s longing to see his goddaughter, ‘The little Sea Girl,’ as he always refers to you. I’ve got a sort of idea, though he didn’t put this into actual words, that he associates you with his little dead son. You remember you were born on the same day. Anyhow, he even hinted that he might be induced to take a sea voyage himself—though the Chinese aren’t much on that, by custom. But he’s been in poor health for some time, and his doctors have done the unusual thing—from a Chinese viewpoint—of recommending a journey. However, that’s not the message. What he did ask me to tell you is that he begs your father will bring you to China in the _Sea Gull_, and that you will both visit him in his palace.” A prolonged, ecstatic “_Ah-h-h!_” from Erica interrupted him here. Lis nodded, his grin broadening. “Yes, ma’am, that’s the message. Also, that your rooms in the palace have been waiting for you for years, never occupied by anyone else, since his son died. And in the package I’m now about to hand you is the confirmation of this invitation.” With a dramatic flourish Lis now handed over the gaudy, gold-sealed box, and Erica, snatching it, tore the coverings off with trembling fingers. Inside the orange paper was a tiny teak-wood box, about three inches long by an inch and a half wide. And inside that, on a bed of golden satin embroidered with lotus flowers, lay a thin silver key, banded with carved jade. Erica lifted it out of the box with little cries of admiration and delight. “You mean,” she gasped, “that this is the key of the rooms——” ”_Your_ rooms, he told me to tell you,” Lis said, quite gravely, his teasing forgotten. “He showed them to me while I was there. The _most_ utterly gorgeous place you ever dreamed of, Rick. Straight out of the _Arabian Nights_, I give you my word!” Erica was staring at the lovely little key with dreaming eyes. “This is the very nicest present he’s sent me yet,” she said with conviction. “Aunt Callie, do you suppose father _will_—Oh, he’s just got to! It would be something to remember and think about all the rest of my life, even when I’m an old, old lady.” She held the key out to her aunt. “Look at that exquisite flower pattern cut into the jade!” she exclaimed. “I believe I’ll wear it like a locket, on a black ribbon round my neck. It’s much too lovely to put away in a box.”