My Theodosia

But the company was not looking at Lewis, it was greeting Jefferson, who leisurely progressed from one to another bidding them 'Good evening'. As he approached her, she understood the angry gasp which she heard issue from the Marquis, who stood behind her.

  The President, pursuant to his stubborn policy of 'no fuss or feathers, simplicity and democracy before all else,' had come to them straight from his study.

  His big loose-jointed frame appeared shrunken inside a wrinkled brown coat, that looked as though he had visited the stables in it—as indeed he had. His thin sandy hair was indifferently combed, there were inkstains on his fingers. Far worse than all this was his footgear, and Theo reflected Dolly Madison's look of dismay when she discovered, as did all the guests with varying degrees of horror, that the President, whose corns hurt him, was shuffling about in heelless and stained carpet slippers that made small flapping noises on the bare floor.

  Even Dolly, who was accustomed to the President's deliberate indifference to dress, was stricken dumb by this innovation. The reactions of the cabinet members present did not, of course, matter. But the diplomats would be outraged: were outraged already. The French and Spanish Ministers, for once in accord, stared pointedly at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Their gold frills and perfumed laces quivered indignantly.

  'I am sorry to have kept you waiting, ladies and gentlemen. It was unavoidable. You must all be hungry. We will go down to dinner at once, informally,' said Jefferson.

  Dolly sighed. 'Another one of these higgledy-piggledy dinners,' she murmured to Theo. 'If he would only let me or Captain Lewis seat the guests properly. But he likes them mixed up together. I vow he makes a fetish of informality.'

  'You mean I may sit where—with whom I like?' asked Theo, her color deepening.

  Dolly had time to nod before the President returned smiling. 'Come, Mrs. Madison,' he said, capturing her arm, 'we will lead the way.'

  'If I sit beside you, I shall scold you, be warned of that, sir,' answered the lady archly, tapping him with her fan. They progressed down the room.

  There was an instant's embarrassed silence, before the Marquis, with a frozen face, bowed to his wife and proffered his arm.

  Theo saw Pedersen approaching her, smirking. She turned her back on him, her heart thumping. Oh, why didn't Meme come for her? He must. She willed him to her with a convulsive inner spasm. But Lewis was cornered by Gallatin. She saw his fair head bent courteously toward the Secretary of the Treasury, who was emphasizing a point with gestures. She couldn't keep on ignoring Pedersen. She must do something. She threw discretion overboard, glided across the floor as unobtrusively as possible.

  'Perhaps Captain Lewis will be so kind as to escort me down to dinner,' she said lightly, turning on Gallatin her most brilliant smile, as excuse for interruption. 'Captain Lewis and I used to know each other long ago in New York, Mr. Gallatin. We must renew our acquaintance.'

  The Swiss bowed. 'Of course, Madame'. His accented voice was chill. He did not like being interrupted. Those Burrs—he thought—like father like daughter—models of effrontery.

  Lewis quietly took her hand and tucked it beneath his arm. 'Neatly done, my dearest,' he murmured.

  She leaned against him, faint and dizzy from the joy of his nearness. 'Oh, Merne,' she whispered, 'it's been such a long dismal day without you. Did you miss me?'

  'I did.'

  The crisp dryness of the two monosyllables delighted her, more convincing than any amount of flowery protestations. She laughed, a low trill of happiness.

  They were descending the stairs, Aaron a few steps behind them with Mrs. Gallatin on his arm. He could not hear what they said, but he heard Theo's laugh, and he had missed nothing of her boldness in demanding the Captain's escort. His eyes narrowed. He failed to comment on Mrs. Gallatin's anecdote about the cleverness of her little son, and the good matron was astonished. Whatever else Colonel Burr might be, she had always before thought him the acme of attentive courtesy.

  When the confusion of seating had died down, Theo found herself between Lewis and Pedersen near the center of the table. The Marquis and Marchioness de Casa Yrujo sat to gether in haughty disapproval at the foot. Aaron had seated himself next to the Marquis, whom he thought it worth while to cultivate. From this position he could also watch Theo.

  'What a remarkable room,' observed Pedersen, endeavoring to get her attention. 'Have you ever been here before, Mrs. Alston?'

  She turned reluctantly from Meme.

  'No, I haven't. But what is there so remarkable about it?' She had in fact not observed the room at all. Her surroundings were of cloudy unimportance. Even Aaron was out of focus. She was quite unaware of his veiled inspection.

  'Look around you, fair lady,' said the Dane, pushing his flirtatious pug face closer to hers. 'Potted flowers, birds, one would think oneself in a conservatory were it not for the ingenious mechanical contraptions. Look—sec, the wall is opening!'

  Indeed, the wall was opening or rather revolving. Jefferson had introduced an enormous 'lazy Susan' between the kitchen and dining-room. At the touch of a spring it revolved, to the accompaniment of creakings and rattlings, and disclosed shelves full of laden platters and dishes, steaming from the stove.

  'I believe he has many such inventions,' continued Pedersen. 'They say there is a species of lift or elevator which runs on pulleys, and is strong enough to carry a man up two or three flights. Though this I haven't seen.'

  'How very interesting,' observed Theo tepidly. Why didn't the man eat his dinner? What did she care for the President's contrivances, or his birds, or his horticulture, when the precious moments were passing; Meme sat so elose to her, and yet they could not get a word with each other!

  The dinner was good and the wines excellent. Mr. Jefferson's passion for plainness stopped short at the culinary de partment. Rice soup was followed by platters of beef, ham, real, mutton cutlets, turkey, fried eggs, and a new Italian dish called 'macaroni' pleasantly flavored with onions and checse. This delicacy at last silenced Pedersen, who subsided with his mouth full. Theo pushed back her untouched plate and turned again to Merne. He had been waiting for her, watching the pure oval of her averted cheek, the distracting little tendrils of auburn that escaped from her green bandeau and nestled against the whiteness of her neck. He, too, made no pretense of eating.

  'Theo,' he whispered, 'this is a hideous farce. I must see you alone—once more.'

  Her face went white. She raised frightened eyes. 'Once more,' she whispered. 'What do you mean? I'll slip out somehow. It's hard now Father is here, but I'll manage. We can meet by the river again——'

  'No, my darling'. His lips barely moved. 'We cannot. We were seen. By one of Jefferson's servants. I managed to shut his mouth, I think. But there might be others. I cannot let you run the risk. Besides, I——'

  He and everyone else at the table except Theo suddenly stiffened and craned forward. Jefferson was speaking in a raised voice, designed to include them all. From the depths of a devastating misery Theo heard phrases, without understanding or caring about them.

  'In this intimate gathering it docs no harm to state openly what most of you know already. It will be public knowledge on Independence Day...'—'Fortunate acquisition of territory without firing a shot...'—'Our excellent sister nation, France...'—'Spain, our illustrious neighbor to the south..'. Aaron, sure of his listener, murmured to Casa Yrujo, 'He is like a cat with a dish of cream, is he not, my lord?'

  The Spaniard's lips curled. 'But this tho-called purchase it not permitted by your Constitution. He ignores that. It is illegal from beginning to end. Thpain will not allow this. There will be war.'

  4 You think so?' said Aaron softly, hoping to draw more interesting indiscretions. But the Marquis veiled his eyes and tapped the head of his cane in angry silence.

  Jefferson's voice continued: 'It has long been my ambition to send an expedition through the westward lands to the other sea. It has been tried three times, only to end in failure. Now that the title to
these lands has most fortunately devolved on us, I feel such an expedition to be of unparalleled importance. The new expedition has been organized, and this time I think it will not fail, for it will be led by two intrepid young men who perfectly understand the nature of their undertaking: my aide and secretary, Captain Lewis, and his friend and comrade at arms, Captain William Clark, who will join him later'. There was a polite buzz of interest. Everyone looked at Lewis, except Theodosia. She sat rigid, staring at the tablecloth.

  'Ladies and gentlemen,' said Jefferson, rising, 'I give you a toast to the success of the expedition, and to its leader.'

  He sent the reddening Merne a smile of sincere affection, and went on: 'He is of courage undaunted, possessing a firmness and perseverance of purpose which nothing but impossibilities can divert from its direction; careful as a father to those committed to his charge, and yet steady in the maintenance of order and discipline; intimate with the Indian character, customs, and principles; habituated to the hunting life; honest, disinterested, liberal; of sound understanding, and of a fidelity to truth so scrupulous that whatever he shall report will be as certain as if seen by ourselves.

  'Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Captain Meriwether Lewis!'

  The company murmured congratulations and drank, while Aaron thought, All this for a country bumpkin of a backwoodsman who is about to be swallowed up forever in the wilderness. Good riddance to him! He was annoyed by the flash of what looked like pure hero-worship that he had seen on Theodosia's face. And he found to his surprise that he had not overestimated his previous dislike of Lewis. It had surged back with full force.

  The talk now became general at the President's end of the table. Madison was asking Lewis questions about the expedition, and Dolly kept up a running obbligato of comment and admiration. 'What a wonderful adventure it will be, Captain Lewis ! How brave you are to attempt it ! It quite makes me shudder to think of the hardships you will have to endure. Still, men thrive on hardships, do they not?' Her blue eyes sparkled, and she laughed her infectious laugh.

  Jefferson leaned back in his chair, beaming at his protégé, and relaxed as he always was by Dolly's cheerful chatter.

  The Secretary of the Treasury addressed himself to the dessert. Jefferson's cherished project did not interest him, and inasmuch as the appropriation for it was but twenty-five hundred dollars, he felt no wish or need to oppose it.

  Theodosia smiled blindly, and tried to force an appearance of attention, but the chatter, the private currents of thought swirled by her. She felt herself alone and desolate. Merne did not belong to her. The sweet isolation of their little time together had had nothing to do with his real life; while for her, it had come perilously near to being life itself.

  A feeling of anguish possessed her. She felt herself detached from this roomful of people. For a moment she saw them all objectively, each with his dominant thought written large on his face. They were like characters in a morality play: Jefferson—Complacency. Dolly Madison—The Social Graces. The Casa Yrujos—Affronted Indignation. Mrs. Turreau, who had not uttered a word since she sat down, was Anxiety, as her husband was Cruelty. Slowly her gaze traveled over them: Pedersen—Gluttony. Gallatin—Shrewdness. Even Meme was outside, and far away from her. His face expressed nothing except the 'firmness and perseverance' of which Jefferson had spoken.

  Only Aaron's face she could not read. She knew him so well, and yet she could not tell what thoughts dwelt beneath that blandly smiling mask.

  Her throat closed, and she looked at Meme. 'Come back to me. Come back,' she cried at him silently. But he would not hear.

  It was only when Mrs. Madison gave the ladies the signal to rise that he turned to her under cover of the scraping chairs.

  'Fix some safe meeting-place,' he whispered urgently. 'I will meet you wherever and whenever you say. Send your maid here with a note. I will get it.'

  'When are you leaving?' she asked hopelessly.

  'Tuesday at dawn.'

  Tuesday, and this was Friday night. She made a small choked sound.

  'Come, my child'. Dolly Madison swept her up with an affectionate arm around her waist. 'We must leave the gentlemen to their port. I fear they are eager to be rid of us poor females.'

  The girl allowed herself to be led upstairs, walking, thought Dolly, with a too docile precision. Her dark beautiful eyes were blank and fixed. She seemed not to hear when Mrs. Gallatin addressed some civil remark to her. Dolly's kind heart was dismayed. She kept Theodosia close to her, covering the girl's behavior with a graceful screen of tactful chatter.

  When the other ladies had withdrawn a little, and there was opportunity, she gently patted Theo's hand. 'You're not happy, dear. What is it? Can I help?'

  Theo started, her small face convulsed. 'Happy!' she cried, with explosive bitterness. 'Is anyone happy?'

  Dolly smiled. 'I am. You won't believe me, dear, you're too young, but happiness comes from acceptance, from ceasing to struggle with things you cannot change. And it lies in small, unconsidered joys, the beauty of flowers, a cup of tea beside the fire with a friend, the pleasure of good conversation, music——' She spoke with unaccustomed seriousness. But she saw that it was of no use. The girl was deep in an emotional crisis, where she could not be reached by tame philosophizing. Dolly had formed a shrewd idea as to the cause of the trouble. Lewis and Theodosia had been transparent enough to her worldly-wise eyes. But there was nothing to be done about that. It would pass, as all violent emotions passed. One worked through them somehow to peace.

  'At any rate, smile, Theodosia,' she urged affectionately. 'You must never let the world read your pain, whatever it is. Nakedness of the spirit in public is far more lewd than nakedness of the body.'

  Theodosia reddened. The gentle reprimand was deserved. She had been false to her father's training, false to her own ingrained social discipline. 'I'm sorry, ma'am. You're quite right.'

  Dolly nodded approval, pulled a tiny gold snuffbox from her reticule. 'I am now about to indulge in one of the small joys I spoke of,' she laughed. 'I believe many people arc shocked by it, but it gives me pleasure and I am stubborn.'

  She applied a hearty pinch to cach nostril and sniffed with a sort of humorous voluptuousness. This produced the effect she had intended. Theodosia smiled a little.

  'That's right, my child. You have a lovely smile. Now let os join the other ladies, whom I hear chattering in French for the sake of poor Mrs. Turreau. I know that in languages you are most proficient, and alas, I am not. So you must assist my stumbling efforts.'

  She drew Theo with her and joined the other ladies.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  IT DEVELOPED next day that Aaron had an engagement at the Union Tavern in Georgetown, and, though this was to be a masculine political dinner, he urged Theodosia to accompany him, suggesting that she might visit either the Stodderts or the Carrolls until he was free to rejoin her. But she pleaded headache and fatigue so successfully that he reluctantly gave in.

  His absence would be providential. There would be some free hours in which to see Meme. But how? And where? The rain continued. Their meeting-place by the river would have been impossible even had Merne not vetoed it. She considered summoning him to the boarding-house, but rejected it at once. The landlady was a renowned gossip and possessed of a fierce curiosity about the comings and goings of her boarders.

  Theo locked her chamber door and paced up and down nervously. It can't just stop like this, she thought. We've had so much beauty, it can't be all over. If we can be alone and quiet once more, I can bear it afterward. There's so much we haven't said to each other. Just once more—please. Then I'll be good. I promise I will.

  She didn't know what entity she was trying to propitiate in this old childish formula; she was beyond coherent thought.

  It was Eleanore who provided the solution. She tapped on the door to ask some question about the baby's clothing, and when Theo finally unlocked it, the maid ran to her mistress with a cry of sympathy.


  'Mon Dieu, Madame. Qu'avez-vous?'

  She soon found out the trouble and, while her sympathy deepened, it became tinged by the amusement which passion always inspires in those not involved. La pauvre petite! So now her fine lover was going away. Papa had returned, le mari would soon be here, and the lover must leave. Madame wished to say farewell in private: most natural.

  'Mais c'est tout simple, Madame. There is a house in the woods by Rock Creek where they take couples embarrassed as you arc. The owner is bien discret. No one will be the wiser,' said Eleanore, who had her own channels for finding out things.

  Theodosia flushed. 'You mean it is a house of assignation?'

  The maid shrugged her stalwart shoulders. 'Ah bien, one may call it what one likes. But when one is starving, one docs not examine a crust of bread too closcly, n'est-cc-pas?'

  'I suppose not,' said Theo slowly. For, after all, what difference did it make, as long as they would be together?

  She wrote a brief note and handed it to Eleanore with instructions.

  'Soyez tranquille, Madame. I will arrange everything. How fortunate that monsieur votre père is going elsewhere tonight. When the cat's away, the mice will play.'

  Theodosia sprang to her feet. 'Hold your tongue!' she blazed.

  Eleanore's jaw dropped; she was too astonished to feel indignant at the first anger she had ever seen in her mistress.

  Theo slumped back on the chair and covered her face with her hands. 'I'm sorry, Eleanore—go now.'

  She couldn't explain, that, put in the maid's crude words, the thought of deliberately deceiving Aaron had twisted her with sudden hot pain. Self-loathing sickened her; but much stronger was her longing for Meme.

  Meme arrived first at the house near Rock Creek, and went through the necessary business of hiring a room with cold distaste. He knew the place by reputation and had been astonished by Theodosia's note, designating it for their meeting. For a moment he had been seized by a normal male reaction of triumph. Surely this could mean only one thing: tacit surrender. Invitation to spend their last hours together, not in the idyllic romantic haze of their days by the river, but in the frank consummation of their passion. On reflection he knew that he was wrong. She was incapable of such cold-blooded planning. She must have picked the place because she could think of none else. Nor for that matter could he. But the frowzy, leering atmosphere of the house revolted him.