At nine o'clock Natalie led Theo upstairs and helped her change into her traveling clothes. She draped a violet velvet cloak over Theo's shoulders, tied bonnet ribbons under her round chin. The bonnet was of violet velvet too, and beneath its brim the girl's face shone ghostly white.

Natalie kissed her. 'Don't be afraid, chérie,' she whispered unhappily. 'It can't be so—so bad. All ze married women in zis world have—subi'. She blushed scarlet.

Theo smiled faintly. 'I'm not afraid, Natalie, dear.'

For now again she felt nothing but a weary blankness: a complete detachment as though she stood far outside herself watching the antics of tiny, not very interesting puppets.

This sense of isolation carried her through the leave-taking. Aaron had prepared himself to deal with this difficult moment, soothing her, and reminding her that they would meet again in a fortnight. His precautions were unnecessary. She seemed scarcely more aware of him than she did of the others, and her brief, almost casual farewell dismayed him. He wished her to adapt herself to her new circumstances, of course, yet where had she acquired this sudden remoteness? It invested her with a surprising maturity. For one instant he felt misgivings—he checked them instantly. Of course she would be happy—ambition and determination produced happiness under any conditions. She must learn this.

He flung open the door and ushered the bride and groom to the small cutter which was waiting outside. The horses stamped and blew with the cold. But it had stopped snowing. High above a frosting of stars twinkled tiny as spangles, diminished by the chill air.

Theo seated herself in the cutter and Joseph clambered in beside her. The horses started off briskly with a cheerful jingling of sleighbells.

'Good-bye, Godspeed!' Most of the company had returned indoors, unwilling to brave the cold or the night air, but Aaron stood bareheaded on the Dutch stoop until the cutter disappeared around a corner.

It glided smoothly on its runners over the fresh snowfall toward the docks. Aaron had booked a stateroom for them on the New York packet, and had informed Joseph of it upon his arrival the evening before.

'Theodosia loves Richmond Hill,' he had explained, 'and I have made arrangements for you to go there at once. It will be easier for her to go by boat, even though ice on the river may delay you. The overland journey is too rigorous at this time of year, and the taverns are impossible.'