The man behind him is explaining the painting to three young women, possibly sisters. All three have the same sharp nose, the same thick brown hair in braids down their backs. “Look at the energy, the motion,” he says. “The sunlight moving on the water. The rainbows rising. You see the power of the water, but you also feel the whole dark wilderness through which the water has moved. Wild America. The continent waiting to be tamed. The singular men who will tame her.” Clearly the man has also read Badeau’s review. He’s read about Edwin then, but has no idea he’s standing next to the genius of Burton’s Theatre.

He continues to talk, but Edwin ceases to hear him. He’s thinking of the painting in the Booths’ hallway. He decides that it’s too pretty, a bit sentimental. He’s ashamed of how much he’d liked it before. Now he’s aware of its fundamental lack of a dark and hidden wilderness.

At the same time, he’s so tired of always finding himself wanting. Standing before this magnificence of water and light and movement and color, he allows himself, for maybe the first time, to own the full range of his dreams. Somewhere in the city is one reviewer who thinks he has something in common with this extraordinary masterpiece.

There is no Rubicon Edwin cannot cross with work and study. He’s not thinking about money at all now. His ambition has arrived at last and it comes in a flood.

Asia

v

Asia is half mad with love for Edwin, who is taking her on a trip to Niagara Falls. She’s never been on such an adventure before. Later she will remember this golden interlude as the last and maybe the best of her girlhood.

It’s summertime, the theaters closed due to the heat. John has arrived unexpectedly home from Philadelphia and will join them. Since poor Rosalie is obviously not up to the journey, Edwin has suggested that Asia invite her best friend, Jean. It couldn’t be more perfect and every bit of it Edwin’s idea. He has a sudden need for great, gushing amounts of water, he says.

In a secret drawer in a secret cupboard in her secret heart, Asia has long wished that one of her brothers—Edwin or John, it makes no difference which—would marry Jean. Asia and Jean are already as close as any sisters, much closer than Asia is to Rosalie.

Jean’s a petite, bosomy young woman. Not striking the way Asia is; you have to look twice at Jean, but when you do, you see that she has a face worth spending time on. Doll-like eyes, curling hair, a cleft chin. Of course, Asia is prejudiced, but that doesn’t make her wrong.

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