When Joseph came home she was conscious and in pain: a grinding pain that tore through her at intervals and made speech impossible. Joseph sat on the bed beside her and patted her hand nervously. He was worried and upset, but he could not understand what had happened, nor did he realize what was likely to happen until Phoebe the cook, who hovered near the bed, remarked with gloomy satisfaction: 'Look lak dat babby comin' right now, Maussa. Yuh better fotch Maum Chloe fum Clifton, enty? Mistiss she gwine hab bad time.'

Joseph started. 'You think it's that? Send for Pompey at once, tell him to gallop to Clifton. Tell him——'

Theo opened her eyes. 'Joseph, no'. Her whisper held a desperation that checked him. He turned to her uncertainly. 'I'm not going to have the baby now. I—won't.'

Not till May when Father will be with me—I need him—I won't live through it if he's not near me.

Phoebe chuckled, shrugging her fat shoulders. 'Yo' kain' stop'em, Mistiss, wen dey wants ter come.'

Theo lay very quiet. Inside her racked body she gathered her will, consciously drawing strength until it flooded her with a compelling power. The pain receded.

'Joseph——'

He bent down quickly. 'What is it, my poor little Theo?'

'Laudanum,' she whispered. 'A big dose, now. And don't fetch Maum Chloe. I won't let her near me. I'm not going to have the baby yet. I won't.'

Nor did she. For three days and nights she lay almost motionless on her bed. The pains gradually died away.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ON THE fifth day after the averted crisis, Theodosia sat up, and Joseph was relieved to find that she felt much better. He drew a chair to her bedside and at last broached the subject of Venus.

'She told me the whole thing, my dear, and I was extremely angry with her, of course. I told her that she was not fit to be a house servant again for some time. She shall be punished by staying in the quarters until she has learned her lesson/ Theo stared at him, astounded. 'But Joseph—don't you realize what she did? She can't possibly remain on the plantation. I want you to sell her. Oh, don't you understand—the girl hates me.'

'That's unreasonable, Theo,' he said patiently. 'The wench was not going to steal your things, she has too much sense for that. She was simply trying them on; very imperti nent, of course, but scarcely a crime. She is very pretty for a nigger, and I dare say has female vanity like others of her sex.'