She was silent a minute; then she said: 'I think you should buy her a passage to the North, Boston, perhaps, and give her a little money besides. Up there she will find her own level.—And don't tell her it was my idea. Let her think that she has won this great victory over me and her hatred will vanish at last.'

'You're wonderful, Theo,' he said humbly.

His humility did not last long. In an hour he was blustering at her for having stayed North so long, and how dared she stop at the Oaks during the fever season! Even one night might be dangerous.

'You were here, willing to take the risk yourself,' she pointed out.

He reddened and was momentarily silenced. At any rate, she must go to Debordieu as soon as the sun was up and sleep with her windows tight shut against the night air.

'Of course,' she agreed. 'I'm aching to see my child. I've longed for him constantly, but——'

But your father came first as usual, thought Joseph bitterly, but he did not say it. They did not mention Aaron after she had given him the bare facts of his sailing. Joseph was relieved. Good riddance. The stormy petrel had finally departed to a safe distance from whence he could no longer foul the family nest. He showed restraint in not laboring this viewpoint. Gratitude kept him silent. Theo had shown incredible generosity in her treatment of Venus and himself. He would show equal generosity by never referring to her disgraceful father. They would start afresh.

His hopes were realized except for one thing. Theo settled quietly back into life in Carolina. She ran his households more efficiently than she ever had. Indeed, with Venus gone, the negroes became more amenable to her rule. She did the necessary civilities to his family: without enthusiasm, and on both sides with nothing more than chilly politeness, but still she did them. She spent much time with Gampy, tutoring him, playing with him. To Joseph himself she was invariably charming. She consulted his wishes and bore with his ill temper.

But she retained her own bedroom, and the door remained shut. And he could do nothing. Her health was poor, as it always was on the Waccamaw. She suffered from headaches and a recurrence of the kidney complications which had accompanied Gampy's birth. She seldom complained, but she proffered this as excuse for the shut door. He grew to feel that, besides this, her refusal sprang from his guilty affair with Venus. She had forgiven it, had been angelic in her forbearance, yet it was not surprising that a pure delicate woman, herself naturally chaste, should recoil from this memory. It made a barrier that time alone could surmount.