Victor and Éleuthère Irénée du Pont were unconscious of the great man's disapproval. They were fine-looking young men, tall for Frenchmen, and enthusiastic about everything in the new country. Only this morning, while snipe shooting, Irénée had had a brilliant idea, and he impatiently awaited an opportunity to present it to Colonel Burr for advice. Or, indeed, to General Hamilton, for his shrewd French brain had decided to back the winner. The Federalists were on the way out, Burr and Jefferson were obviously gaining; still, one must be wary of offending expiring monarchs—they have been known to revive.

The great gilded punchbowl circulated rapidly, as black Alexis carried it from one group to another. It contained a Richmond Hill specialty, a mixture of homemade peach brandy and champagne, and it was iced—a newfangled innovation which disconcerted some of the older guests, who were convinced that a freezing liquid could not be wholesome.

Toast after toast was drunk to Theodosia's happiness, and she responded with deep curtsies and laughing thanks. Eyes sparkled, cheeks grew flushed, and still Alexis had not announced that the dinner awaited their pleasure.

Theo signaled her father in surprise, but he shook his head and glanced toward the door. They were waiting for someone, then. Who? She speculated idly, gave it up, and went on talking to the young men who surrounded her.

It was past six before Alexis opened the drawing-room door with a dignified flourish. 'Mr. Joseph Alston,' he announced.

Everyone turned as a heavy young man lumbered in. Theo stared with the rest. He must be a gentleman of consequence or her father would never have kept this distinguished company waiting for him.

Had she ever heard of Joseph Alston? Something to do with South Carolina, she thought. Political then. He had a pompous air about him; he looked arrogant and humorless. He was of medium height and heavy-set, a circumstance which his bright plum-colored suit did nothing to conceal. It seemed stuffed to bursting across his broad back. His hair was black and cut short a la Brutus; it clustered on his round head in tight curls. Theo thought instantly of a bust of the Emperor Tiberius which she had once seen in a Philadelphia drawing-room: the same thick neck, low forehead, and full, disdainful mouth.

Alston eyed the assemblage in a lofty manner while Aaron greeted him with emphatic cordiality, and drew him over to Theodosia. 'Mr. Alston, may I present you to my daughter, Miss Burr?'

Theodosia sketched a curtsy, and the young man bowed. ''S a pleasure, ma'am,' he drawled, with a languid blurring of consonants which she knew to be peculiar to natives of the Southern States.

'Welcome to Richmond Hill,' she murmured, gave him a bright conventional smile, and turned back to the group behind her, eager to join in their chatter.