If there was any doubt in his mind as to the outcome he evidently was determined not to let Theodosia know it. In his letter he breathed nothing but self-confidence. “I repeat what has heretofore been written, that I should never invite anyone, much less those so dear to me, to witness my disgrace. I may be immured in dungeons, chained, murdered in legal form, but I cannot be humiliated or disgraced. If absent you will suffer great solicitude. In my presence you will feel none, whatever may be the malice or the power of my enemies and in both they abound.” It was as though Burr had trained his daughter from her birth with this critical moment in view. And the training had been carried out with all the puritan vigor that ran in the blood of the Burrs and the Edwardses. The child was the first born to the Colonel and his wife, the widow Theodosia Bartow Prevost. The event took place in 1783 while the Burrs were still living in Albany. The infant was named for her mother though Theodosia Prevost Burr professed that she wanted to name it for Aaron’s sister Sally. Soon after the baby’s arrival the mother wrote to Sally’s husband, Tapping Reeve, announcing the event: “Providence smiled upon our wishes and on the 21st of June blest us with a lovely daughter ... and you will believe me, Reeve, when I tell you the dear little girl has the eyes of your Sally, and promises to be as handsome. I would also have given her her name; but Burr insisted on calling her Theo--assure my sister for me that I submitted with the greatest regret.” The baby was barely five months old when the family moved to New York City, and there the child grew up. Soon after, another daughter was born to the Burrs, but she died in a few years and little is known about her. Early in little Theo’s life she exhibited a marked devotion to her father. At the age of four years Mrs. Burr was reporting, “Our sweet prattler exclaims at every noise, ‘There’s dear papa’ and runs to meet him.” It was said that her attachment for her father was not of a common nature and that when he was away she could not hear him spoken of without an apparent melancholy. Such accounts sound suspiciously like an effort on Mrs. Burr’s part to flatter the Colonel into forgiving her for having presented him with two daughters and no sons. They might be dismissed as such had not their truth been clearly demonstrated by later events. By this time the once delicate baby had grown into a plump, gay little girl with rosy cheeks and a winning smile. Little Theo’s upbringing became almost immediately the special care of the Colonel. The way he went about it suggests that subconsciously at least he was trying to make amends for her not being a boy. Wherever business might take him and however occupied he might be with his law practice and politics and other personal matters, his thoughts were never far away from his daughter and her training.