JOSEPH was to leave soon by fast packet for Charleston. He had hoped that the imminence of his parting from Theodosia would bring them closer together. She would shed a few tears, perhaps, and cling to him. She might even nestle close and look up at him with as much affection as she showed to her father. It would be delightful to comfort her, promising a speedy return, and settling on the date for their wedding.

Joseph was slated for disappointment. On the morning after the theater party, Theodosia awoke with a painful headache which confined her to bed and made it impossible to see Joseph at all. Besides the headache, she had a slight rise in temperature and a total loss of appetite. Doctor Eustis, hastily summoned by Aaron, assured them that the indisposition was not serious—none of the malignant fevers.

As the headache continued, day after day, neither improving nor getting worse, the doctor frankly confessed that its origin baffled him. When calomel failed, he prescribed hemlock and applied leeches to her feet. The purpose of these last was to draw the irritating blood from her head. Theo regarded the slimy black slugs with disgust, but she submitted passively to the treatment.

She hated confinement in bed, and during brief childish illnesses had always chafed against it. Yet now she lay white and quiet, accepting Natalie's anxious nursing with docility.

On the day before Joseph's departure, Aaron decided that perhaps she had had enough coddling and tried bracing tactic.

He entered her room briskly, exuding his usual aura of keen, disciplined fitness. 'Good morning, my dear. You look rosier today. Head better?'

She opened her shadowed eyes slowly. 'A little better, perhaps,' she whispered, trying to smile.

'See what I've brought you.'

She turned her head painfully.

He was carrying a cage made of woven reeds, containing a small yellow bird. It cheeped hoarsely, then burst into a cascade of trills.

'Doesn't it sing sweetly?' said Aaron, delighted with his gift. 'I bought it off a Portuguese schooner. It comes from the Canary Islands and will cure you by its cheerful music.'

'Thank you, Papa. It sounds charming'. Not for anything would she have hurt him or let him guess that the bird's shrill singing crashed through her head like cymbals.

Aaron placed the birdcage on a table by the window and came over to the bed. 'Now I want you to do something for me.'

'Of course, if I can.'

'Get up, then, ay dear. Just for a few minutes, if necessary. You will feel better—oh yes, you will. I insist. There is nothing really wrong with you, you know. Eustis has made a thorough examination. You will not get well by losing strength. One must make an effort.'

Ignoring her protests he placed his arm under her linen-clad shoulders and lifted her up. The room spun around her.

'I get so giddy, Papa—I can't.'