She shook her head. 'It's so hot down there, and I—I never feel very well, somehow. It seems an effort to open a book. The days slide by—one into the other——'

'Why don't you make your husband take a place up in the mountains?' he interrupted, frowning. 'That unhealthy swampland is suicide for you; only the niggers can stand it.'

Theo sighed. 'We've talked about it, you know. But it never happens. We have three estates already, and, besides, Joseph must be on the Waccamaw, unless he's in Columbia or Charleston.'

Aaron snorted. 'You are the two most spiritless young persons I ever knew. I believe you never muster up enough en ergy to do anything but lie on a sofa with a nigger wench waving a peacock's tail over you. I'm ashamed of you.'

She smiled at him sadly. 'Don't be angry with me, Papa'. He bent over and pinched her cheek. 'You're a worthless hussy, but I forgive you. Mind you sparkle tonight with your old liveliness. I wish you to do me credit before the brilliant assemblage of disgruntled diplomats and unkempt statesmen'. 'Not unkempt,' she protested, 'surely.'

Aaron gave a short laugh. 'Wait until you see our magnificent President.'

At four o'clock that afternoon Theo and Aaron in a hired coach bounced and splashed through puddles down Pennsylvania Avenue to the President's mansion. This house built of reddish-gray freestone was large and of pleasing proportions, but it was still unfinished. It stuck up crude and naked from a sea of mud dotted with piles of lumber and brick. The grounds were unembellished by either tree or shrub, and their desolate rainswept expanse was enclosed by a weathered post-and-rail fence that awaited an appropriation from the reluctant Congress before it could be replaced by a more dignified stone wall. For the same reason the entrance steps were still of rough planking, the east rooms were unplastered, and the slate roof leaked dismally. On a wet day such as this one visitors were assailed in the vestibule by an odor of damp mixed with more unpleasant effluvia of which the hearty smell of boiling cabbage and the stench of a garbage pile beneath the kitchen windows were the least disagreeable.

Theo and Aaron, after waiting some time in the rain, were ushered in by a black butler whose greeting seemed to Theo astonishingly unceremonious. 'Good day, Mistah VicePresident. Howdy, ma'am. Nice weather for frogs,' he said chattily. 'You'm a mite early. Massa Jefferson he still fig-gerin' in his study. You all wanta go there or you wanta wait?'

'We'll wait, Henry,' said Aaron. 'Kindly announce us to the President—Mrs. Alston and myself.'

'Sho'I will, sir. Sho''. He shuffled away, leaving them to stand by the door.

Aaron laughed at Theo's astounded face. 'Just a taste of Jefferson's perfect democracy, my dear. You will see more of it before the evening is out.'