As they drove out of the Imperial City, Stanton Ware thought that he had been correct in thinking that the countryside would be beautiful with the coming of spring.
The ground was thick with the white blossoms of the wild wood-jasmine, which had a scent almost like that of tuberoses.
The mimosa was a spray of powdery gold, which made the trees a glory that rivalled the sun.
They were moving slowly over the uneven roads in a carriage drawn by four horses that Tseng-Wen had supplied them with.
It was the sort of carriage which would have been looked upon with disdain by all the foreigners who had brought to their Legations well-sprung European chaises in which they travelled about at what seemed to the Chinese to be a frightening speed.
But Tseng-Wen had briefed Stanton Ware very thorou
