Modern art critics are inclined to turn up their noses at Saint-Mémin’s work because of its mechanical quality. Yet from the standpoint of social prestige the money paid out for it could not have been better spent. No doubt there were many men and women in Richmond who thought of engaging Saint-Mémin. They may then have reflected that $25 or $35 was a goodly sum. They would have been unusual if they had not had more pressing demands than portraits--perhaps new parlor furniture, or a great four poster bed in the heavy empire style just coming into vogue. Perhaps they reflected that at least part of that sum might be needed to pay the fees for their children at the dancing class going on at the Haymarket Gardens. What better and more direct way to obtain social prestige than by sending children to a dancing class? Or a room may have needed papering or a leaking roof called for attention. Whatever the practical, common-sense reason, there were many who failed to seize the opportunity presented them by Saint-Mémin. They could not know that a hundred years or so after they had gone to their reward their portraits, in black and white crayon on pink paper, hanging on a wall in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Annapolis, or Richmond, and duly authenticated as an ancestor, entitled its owner to a place in the most exclusive social circles. In a country where a coronet is not worn a “Saint-Mémin” comes closest to being the equivalent symbol of nobility. Anyone who unguardedly inquires “what is a Saint-Mémin?” could offer no better proof of not belonging. The moral of the Saint-Mémin episode is that whenever an offer to be extravagant appears, take it. No telling what social prestige it may bring one’s descendants. No, following the indictment of Burr and the others, and the adjournment of court, and while waiting for it to convene again on August 3, Richmond was far from dull. _Chapter_ XII As the day for his trial approached Burr felt the need for Theodosia. His daughter was now in Charleston with her husband and little boy. But Burr was not the kind to yield to sentimentality. His appeal was quite impersonal; it might have been made to any stranger. It was based on logical reasons and did not for once intimate that in this crisis of his life he needed the affection and understanding which only Theodosia could give him. “I want,” he wrote toward the close of July, “an independent and discerning witness to my conduct and to that of government. The scene which has passed and those about to be transacted will exceed any reasonable credulity, and hereafter will be deemed fables, unless attested by very high authority.”