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Updated: May 2, 2025
Jefferson in the Presidential chair after ten years of ineffectual struggle. All this enhanced the éclat of Theodosia's position.
"While I was gettin' Stefana's starch at the store; I asked if I could, till I got back." Miss Theodosia's face put on sternness. "What was the mother of the Benjamin baby thinking of, to let you?" she demanded. "Oh, I don't know I don't know! That's a very speckled baby, anyway, an' perhaps she didn't know measles from speckles.
Oh, starlit night of adventuring! What next? Miss Theodosia's mantle of gentle melancholy slid from her shoulders; she no longer felt apprehensions of growing old. Continually she saw Evangeline's rosy face on that flat pillow, and the little mound of Elly Precious. She remembered how tiny the house had looked from the inside, and how many little littering clothes she had seen.
He never appeared more unlike himself. I was somehow uncommonly stupid, and, would you believe it, even awkward. Said very little, and that little with hesitation. You know there are days when every thing goes against one. How could we forget Latimer? He has sung Theodosia's praise among the southern army in terms with which her best friends must be pleased.
They mixed and beat and stirred together, and Evangeline never knew how many more eggs than two went into the rich golden batter. Elly Precious, tied for safety-first into one of Miss Theodosia's chairs, looked on with an interest more or less intermittent; when Evangeline's offerings of "teeny speckles" of toothsome batter were delayed, the interest flagged.
Stefana muttered, and, as if from the relief of it, the troubled sleep seemed to calm and quiet down into deep oblivion to all troubles. To Miss Theodosia's dismay Stefana slid quietly to the ground and dreamlessly slept. Here, indeed, was adventure! Even at twelve years and Stefana small, the child was too heavy to carry home.
Miss Theodosia's tea cooled in its cup, and John Bradford had long ago forgotten his. The big hands on the chair-arms gripped them unconsciously. Then, suddenly, the man got to his feet and walked to the far end of the room. On his return he stopped before Miss Theodosia, looking down. "I love you," John Bradford said.
The garrulous little voice might have run on indefinitely but for the abrupt appearance, here, of a slender girl in an all-enwrapping gingham apron. She came hurrying up Miss Theodosia's front walk. "Well, Evangeline Flagg, I hope you're blushing crimson scarlet red helping yourself to folks's doorsteps that's got back from Europe!
He made haste to quarrel with his wife's mother, in his perverse relish of aught that might give Theodosia pain, and they quitted her home and took up their residence in the house in which Theodosia had once expected to live, the scene of the early struggles of "Fambly." Theodosia's beauty could hardly be said to fade; it disappeared in the overblowing.
He kept all these papers in a huge iron-clamped chest, and he instructed Theodosia in case he should die to burn every letter which might injure any one. After Theodosia's death Burr gave the same instructions to Matthew L. Davis, who did, indeed, burn them, though he made their existence a means of blackening the character of Burr.
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