The talk now became general at the President's end of the table. Madison was asking Lewis questions about the expedition, and Dolly kept up a running obbligato of comment and admiration. 'What a wonderful adventure it will be, Captain Lewis ! How brave you are to attempt it ! It quite makes me shudder to think of the hardships you will have to endure. Still, men thrive on hardships, do they not?' Her blue eyes sparkled, and she laughed her infectious laugh.

Jefferson leaned back in his chair, beaming at his protégé, and relaxed as he always was by Dolly's cheerful chatter.

The Secretary of the Treasury addressed himself to the dessert. Jefferson's cherished project did not interest him, and inasmuch as the appropriation for it was but twenty-five hundred dollars, he felt no wish or need to oppose it.

Theodosia smiled blindly, and tried to force an appearance of attention, but the chatter, the private currents of thought swirled by her. She felt herself alone and desolate. Merne did not belong to her. The sweet isolation of their little time together had had nothing to do with his real life; while for her, it had come perilously near to being life itself.

A feeling of anguish possessed her. She felt herself detached from this roomful of people. For a moment she saw them all objectively, each with his dominant thought written large on his face. They were like characters in a morality play: Jefferson—Complacency. Dolly Madison—The Social Graces. The Casa Yrujos—Affronted Indignation. Mrs. Turreau, who had not uttered a word since she sat down, was Anxiety, as her husband was Cruelty. Slowly her gaze traveled over them: Pedersen—Gluttony. Gallatin—Shrewdness. Even Meme was outside, and far away from her. His face expressed nothing except the 'firmness and perseverance' of which Jefferson had spoken.

Only Aaron's face she could not read. She knew him so well, and yet she could not tell what thoughts dwelt beneath that blandly smiling mask.

Her throat closed, and she looked at Meme. 'Come back to me. Come back,' she cried at him silently. But he would not hear.

It was only when Mrs. Madison gave the ladies the signal to rise that he turned to her under cover of the scraping chairs.

'Fix some safe meeting-place,' he whispered urgently. 'I will meet you wherever and whenever you say. Send your maid here with a note. I will get it.'

'When are you leaving?' she asked hopelessly.

'Tuesday at dawn.'

Tuesday, and this was Friday night. She made a small choked sound.

'Come, my child'. Dolly Madison swept her up with an affectionate arm around her waist. 'We must leave the gentlemen to their port. I fear they are eager to be rid of us poor females.'