'A masterly dissertation. I see that we are to expect your betrothed very soon. He will, no doubt, follow us to Albany. In fact I have written him to that effect.'

Theo nodded, still deep in the pages of her romance. The fortunes of Rinaldo, who had scaled the castle wall on a silken ladder to elope with his lady fair, were far more important than Joseph's possible advent.

'Moreover,' went on Aaron, with calculated lack of emphasis, 'you and Alston will be married in Albany in about a fortnight, I should think.'

She jerked upright. The novel slid from her lap to the carpet. 'In Albany!' she repeated blankly. 'Why, that's impossible! It's too soon.'

'Not at all. What is there to be gained by waiting? He is coming North for the purpose, is he not?'

'Yes, I—I suppose so. But I always thought I should be married from Richmond Hill, and not in the middle of winter——'

'Neither location nor climate has anything to do with marriage, my dear. And though I do not wish to sound vulgar, I must tell you the truth. I cannot afford to give you a wedding appropriate to our position at Richmond Hill. The whole town would have to be asked.'

Which was true enough, though Aaron had another motive for desiring an Albany wedding. At this critical period, with his name on every thinking man's tongue and the hostile press yapping, it would confound them all when it became known that he was quietly pursuing his legislative duties in Albany, and that, far from being engaged in the tie negotiations ot intriguing for the Presidency, he was engrossed by a charming domestic affair—the marriage of his beloved only child.

He went to the highboy, and unlocking a small drawer drew from it a bag of coins. He put them gently in her lap. 'Consult with Natalie as to your wardrobe, then buy yourself some pretty gowns. That new French modiste on Chatham Street will make them up in a few days. Stint nothing. And if you need more money, I will find it for you gladly. I want my Theodosia to be the most beautiful of brides.'

CHAPTER EIGHT

THEODOSIA and Joseph were married in Albany, on Monday, February 2, 1801, in the low-ceilinged parlor of the little house Aaron had leased for the session.

Afterward Theo never could remember much about the ceremony except a sharp sensation of surprise that marriage, which seemed such a soul-shaking step to contemplate, could in the happening seem so casual and undramatic. She had expected heartache, palpitations, perhaps even the mystical joy one read about. She felt nothing at all.