ON MARCH FOURTH Theodosia and Joseph arrived in the new Federal City to witness President Jefferson's inauguration. They wedged themselves amongst the wildly excited crowd inside the Capitol, craning and jostling with the others for a clear view.

Aaron, splendid in black silk, as presiding officer of the Senate made a brief, graceful speech presenting the new President, for his inauguration, to the assemblage and to the new Chief Justice, John Marshall, who administered the prescribed oath. Jefferson's lanky, unkempt figure towered over him, yet Theo was not the only one in the Senate Chamber who felt that Aaron would have better suited the high position, and that Jefferson would make but an uncouth and grotesque representative for the growing nation.

It's all wrong, thought Theo bitterly. It should have been Father. Why are people so blind—so stupid?

Though Aaron privately shared this opinion, neither to friend nor enemy did he ever show the slightest disappointment at the eventual outcome of the tie vote. On the contrary, during the last weeks, when the election had finally been thrown into the House of Representatives, and that harassed body had doggedly cast indecisive vote after vote for thirty-five ballots, and on the thirty-sixth the Federalists voted in sufficient numbers to elect Jefferson, Burr had taken pains to disclaim all personal interest in the matter, assuring everyone of his dismay at the situation. 'How monstrous,' he said smoothly, 'that the plainly expressed will of the people for Jefferson should be blocked by a technicality.'

Aaron was a good loser, and if one avenue closed, his natural optimism at once suggested another. He had lost the Presidency by one electoral vote. Maddening—yes. Still, it was lost; he accepted the inevitable with his usual composure and made plans for the future. There would be other elections, other opportunities for dazzling achievement in this vast and unexploited country.

His cheerfulness infected Theodosia, and, for the three days that she and Joseph spent in Washington, the celebrations, receptions, banquets, and parades gave her no time to think of the approaching separation from her father. During the past month she had been able to make at least a partial adjustment to her marriage relation. She never quite lost the maternal compassion she had discovered on her wedding night: an emotion new to her, who had spent all of her seventeen years in the rôle of dependent and worshiper. It gave her strength to endure Joseph's ill temper and inept love-making.