Michaela approached the door of Colleen's room, and tapped on it lightly.  "Rosalind?" she called softly.  "It's Michaela—may I come in?"

     "Yes my dear—please do," came Rosalind's voice from within.

     Michaela opened the door and crossed the threshold.   Rosalind, wearing a crimson dressing gown, sat at Colleen's vanity table.  A hairbrush with a silver handle, and an open box of hairpins sat before her.  Her thick, dark hair, twisted into a heavy braid, lay over one shoulder.   As Michaela entered, Rosalind was in the act of undoing the braid, in preparation for brushing out her hair and putting it up.   Michaela walked over to stand behind  Rosalind.  "Good morning," she said, smiling at Rosalind's reflection in the mirror.

     "And to you, my dear," Rosalind responded warmly.  "I'm afraid you caught me in the midst of my morning toilette," she added.  She regarded her image critically.  "I try to avoid the trappings of my position whenever possible, but I confess at times like these I miss having my maid.  I'm afraid I'm not very  skilled in the art of hair styling."

     Michaela picked up the hairbrush.  "This is lovely," she said.  "Colleen has one very much like it, that my mother gave her.  May I?" She asked, meeting Rosalind's eyes in the mirror.

     "I don't want to trouble you," Rosalind protested.

     Michaela finished undoing Rosalind's braid, and began to gently pull the brush through her friend's thick locks.  "It's no trouble," she said.  "I often brush Colleen's hair for her."

     "Then I accept your kind offer with gratitude," Rosalind said sincerely.

     Michaela finished brushing, and began to twist Rosalind's hair into a chignon, anchoring it with a few of the hairpins.  "There," she said presently.  "Is that all right?"

     Rosalind admired her handiwork.  "It looks lovely," she said.  "Far better than I could hope to achieve!"

     "Were you able to get much rest?" Michaela asked, noting that Rosalind still looked somewhat  tired.

     "A bit," Rosalind answered.  "I'm afraid my excitement made sleep rather difficult.  All I could think about was finally meeting Byron, wondering what we would say to each other, what he would think of me—or even, in my arrogance, whether he would want to see me at all!"  As she spoke, she turned away from the mirror to face Michaela, who sat opposite her on the foot of the bed.  For the first time, her eyes truly registered Michaela's exhausted appearance.  "My poor child!  Here I am, chattering on about my worries over Byron and  complaining of a little fatigue, and it's obvious you haven't slept at all!  If I was the cause of your sleepless night I must beg your forgiveness.  Perhaps it was selfish of me to lay such a heavy burden upon you, asking you to be my intermediary with my nephew."

     "Rosalind, please, it's all right," Michaela said soothingly.  "Sleepless nights and missed meals are common occurrences  when one is a doctor.  And I'm happy to intercede for you with Sully.  Please don't worry anymore about that.

     "It's true I haven't slept, but there was a very good reason."  She paused and then said carefully,  "Sully came to see me last night—and he's still here."

     Rosalind stared at her in amazement.  "He's here—now?" she whispered.

     "Yes—he's really here!  And you'll be seeing him very soon."

     "But . . . does he know . . . about—“

     "Yes, he knows all about you,"   Michaela assured her.  "We spent the night talking.  I persuaded him to share his early memories of his mother with me, and  then I showed him the cameo and told him about you."

     "What was his reaction?  Was he upset, angry?"  Rosalind asked her anxiously.

     "No, no, not at all," Michaela told her.  "Apparently Katharine had told her children virtually nothing about her past, or her family.  Sully recalled her alluding to you only once—and she didn't tell him your name, or any details about you.  So the knowledge that you were his aunt, and that you had been wondering about him for so many years came as quite a shock to him.  However, once the shock began to pass, he was pleased to know that a member of his mother's family still existed, who was so anxious to know him."

     "And Katharine?  What did he say about her—if I may ask?"

     Michaela was silent a moment, then said gently, "Sully told me a great deal about his mother, and his brother—about their lives, and their deaths.  I must tell you that Sully believes that his mother—took her own life—out of grief over William.  He said that she changed after William died—that she never recovered from the loss.  From what he said, I deduced that Katharine was suffering a severe form of melancholia—and that it drove her to react in ways she never would have ordinarily."  She watched Rosalind carefully, concerned about the woman's reaction to this apparent confirmation of her sister's suicide.  However, though Rosalind was clearly saddened by the knowledge, she also didn't seem surprised—merely resigned.
 
     "I think, in my heart, I always knew the truth," Rosalind  admitted quietly.  "But consciously, I just couldn't bring myself  to believe that Katharine would leave Byron an orphan."

     "Depression, and sadness—the type of all-consuming sadness that one feels upon the death of a loved one—can change a person in profound ways," Michaela said.  "I truly believe, from all that you and Sully have told me, that Katharine was not responsible for her actions when she—made that final choice.  She was in terrible pain, and she desperately wanted the pain to end.

     "Recently, I had experience with a patient suffering depression extreme enough to cause him to attempt suicide.  Fortunately, he wasn't successful, but no matter what treatments I tried to cure his melancholia, nothing worked.  He seemed to be improving, but in reality, his pain persisted, and was so pervasive that it eclipsed everything else in his life.  Eventually, through sheer strength of will, he was able to work through the pain and find something to live for.  But it was a difficult struggle—and I cannot be certain that his battle is over.

     "I believe that, like my patient, Katharine fought hard, but ultimately the burden of her grief was too great to overcome."

     "Thank you for saying that Michaela," Rosalind said gratefully,   "It makes the truth a little easier to bear.  But what of Byron?  How did he react to Katharine's death?  Did he tell you?"

     "Sully was angry," Michaela told her honestly.  "He was much too young to understand what was happening to his mother.  All he knew was that she had left him.  And in his mind, he equated that with her not loving him.  He—determined to block her out of his life.  It was why he ran away, and eventually came west.  He wanted no reminders of his past."

     "I was afraid that might have been the case," Rosalind said regretfully.  "Well then, by all rights, he should resent me—since I am a reminder of his mother."

     "Sully carried his anger inside for many years," Michaela admitted.   "But when he suffered the loss of his own wife and child, he was finally able to understand and empathize with his mother's torment.  And with the spiritual help of Cloud Dancing, Sully was able to let go of the anger and the blame, and forgive his mother at last.  His memories will always be sad ones, but he has made his peace with the past.

     "He truly *does* want to know you Rosalind—I can assure you of that."

     "That's a great relief," Rosalind.  "I was so worried that he would reject me—and he would have had every right."    She stood, and began to pace about the room.  Michaela watched her, concerned for Roalind's emotional well-being.

     "Are you all right Rosalind?" she asked.

     Rosalind stopped pacing and faced her.  "Yes, I'm all right—merely anxious, I suppose.  I've waited for this moment for so long, but now that it's finally come, I'm afraid that I won't measure up to Byron's expectations."

     Michaela smiled.  "Your anxiety is understandable," she said.  "This is an important moment in your life—and in Sully's life as well.  Would it surprise you to learn that he is just as nervous about meeting you?  I believe he's worried that you won't approve of him—that he's too—rough-hewn—for your taste and sensibilities."

     Rosalind shook her head and laughed softly.  "It appears we've both been foolish—laboring under absurd misapprehensions,"  she said.

     "I agree," said Michaela.  "Your backgrounds may be very different, but that doesn't mean the two of you can't form a special relationship.  After all, look at Sully and me.  We could hardly be more different, but, as Sully says, we 'make it work.'"

     "And I could hardly find a more inspiring example than the bond that the two of you obviously share," said Rosalind.   She sat down on the bed next to Michaela.  "Is there anything else I should know before we meet?" she asked.

     "Just that, though I told Sully of your relationship to him, and how you came to realize that he was your nephew, I didn't tell him anything of Katharine's history.   I felt you would want to be the one to tell him about his mother."

     "Thank you for your thoughtfulness and sensitivity, my dear."

     "Sully and I also felt it would be best if we waited to tell the rest of the family about your relationship until after the two of you have some time alone together," Michaela told her.  "And since we thought you both should have privacy when you first meet,  I've arranged for everyone to be out of the homestead for the balance of the day, so that you and Sully will be able to talk alone.  Once everyone else is gone, I'll come up and fetch you."

     "But won't the others wonder about me?" asked Rosalind.

     "I'll simply make your apologies, and say that you needed more rest after your exhausting journey," said Michaela.

     "Thank you for your efforts, Michaela."

     "I simply want to make all this as easy for both you and Sully as possible," Michalea assured her, squeezing Rosalind's hand.   She stood up.  "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to change, and see everyone off for the day.  Will you be all right?"

     "Yes, I'll be fine," said Rosalind.  "You run along, and don't worry about me."

     "I'll return for you shortly," Michaela promised.  She gave Rosalind a last, encouraging smile and left.