On Richmond Hill there lives a maid
   More bright than May-Day mom,
Whose charms all other maids surpass,
   A rose without a thorn.
This lass so neat, with smile so sweet,
   Has won my right good-will.
I'd crowns resign to call thee mine,
   Sweet lass of Richmond Hill.

As the song was finished, Aaron put his arm around Theo's waist. 'Is my lass of Richmond Hill enjoying her party?'

'Indeed I am, Father'. She smiled at him. 'They are all so kind, and you are so good to me.'

Her lassitude had gone. The sound of the music, the touch of her father's loving arm had dispelled it. And the prospect of dancing. She dearly loved to dance.

She saw Vanderlyn, Robert Swartwout, and Alston start toward her from different sides of the room with the evident intention of leading her out. She would tactfully choose Vanderlyn, she decided; he would best know the figures, having just returned from France.

The three young men reached her at the same moment. Vanderlyn and Swartwout spoke in undesigned duet. 'Miss Burr, I beseech the honor——' and broke off, glaring at each other.

But Alston said nothing, stood awkwardly before her, biting his lips, his face uncommonly flushed. His expression had changed from its former surly indifference. He gazed at her now in a bold way that made her uncomfortable. He must have had plenty to drink, she thought, but would he never find his tongue?

'You wish to speak to me, Mr. Alston?'

He cleared his throat. 'To converse with you, yes. I was not going to ask you to dance. I do not like these outlandish dances.'

But I do, was at her tongue's tip. She raised her hand toward Vanderlyn who stepped forward eagerly.

Aaron slid himself between them, turning his back on the discomfited young artist, and addressed himself to Alston.

'I quite understand your aversion to dancing, Mr. Alston. I'm sure that Theodosia will be delighted to humor you. My dear'—he turned on her his brilliant gaze—'why do you not show Mr. Alston our picture gallery? It is of some interest, I believe. And he might like to view the gardens, as well. I know that they cannot compare with the beauties of those on his own plantations, but I trust he won't find them too dull.'

Disappointment choked her; she raised beseeching eyes to her father's face. Was it really necessary to go on trying to entertain this very boring and unmannerly planter? Must she miss the dancing—and on her birthday too?

Aaron's face softened as he met her look. Unperceived by the others, he shook his head, his lips formed words. 'To please me. You may dance later.'