The north wall was given over to an enormous fireplace, its wooden mantel painted white and carved with the classic egg-and-dart design. Two'Sèvres vases stood upon it, the blues and golds of their porcelain lustrous as jewels. And above them hung a portrait of Theodosia at fourteen. Gilbert Stuart had painted it, and Aaron had been none too pleased with the result. It had caught her dimpled prettiness and the sweet gravity of her face in repose, but failed entirely to give any hint of her vivacity and sparkle. "Tis a namby-pamby, bread-and-butter miss you have made of her,' he told Stuart, whose touchy vanity was thereby so outraged that they had no more dealings with each other.

Still Aaron kept it there until such time as young Vanderlyn could produce a better likeness. He glanced at the picture now, meditatively, seated himself at his writing-table, pulled a sheaf of letters to him, and picked up his quill pen.

In a few minutes there came a timid knock at the door and Natalie's high accented voice. 'May I speak with you a moment, Papa Burr?'

He rose with instant courtesy, thrusting his pen into its ruby-colored glass of shot. Natalie slid into the room twisting her fingers nervously. He settled her on a chair and reseated himself. 'What is it, Natalie? What is troubling you?'

He smiled kindly at the girl, thinking that it was a pity she was not prettier, though she had a certain style with her retroussé nose and tiny pursed mouth, and she did manage to coax her light nondescript hair into a chic coiffure. She wasn't a Frenchwoman for nothing.

'It's ... it's about Theo,' she faltered.

His eyelids flickered, but his warm smile remained unchanged. 'Well, what about Theo? Come, child, you act like a flushed partridge. Out with it.'

Natalie gulped and in one excited breath went on: 'This morning, she—she said she had rendezvous with a'andsome young man, but she was not even sure of his name. I could not believe my ears. I tried to stop her, of course, but she would not listen. She ran from me, toute étourdie, laughing comme une folle. I—I thought I must tell you.'

Aaron nodded, his eyes sympathetic. 'You did quite right, my dear,' while he suppressed laughter that would have hurt the earnest and estimable Natalie. So that was all it was. An escapade, a piece of light-hearted foolishment, or she would never have told Natalie.

They both turned at sounds outside, Minerva's unmistakable whinny, then Theo's clear voice, asking eagerly, 'Is Colonel Burr at home yet?'

Natalie rose hastily. 'You won't scold her too much today, will you? It is her jour de fête.'

'I shall not scold her,' said Aaron gravely, 'too much'. Amusement twitched at his mouth as Natalie escaped.

He stood quietly waiting, as light footsteps ran down the hall toward him.