Edwin, Mary, and Elizabeth Stoddard travel to Boston, where Edwin performs for a week. While there, they hear of a brilliant physician who treats women for women’s problems, a Dr. Erasmus D. Miller. Miller’s practice is in Dorchester, so if Mary is to be among his patients, Dorchester is where she must live.

Edwin buys a house on Washington Street, a cozy nook with windows in the back overlooking the slope down to Dorchester Bay. Edwin likes the house better than Mary does. He can sit for hours, smoking his pipe and watching the light play over the water, turn it silver or green or black with the moonlight spreading its shining road. Two trees in the yard go a vivid yellow, blazing like candles.

He pulls Mary into his lap, her head against his chest. Her hair falls from its knot. He combs his fingers through it. “When the snow comes,” he says, “we’ll take a sleigh ride in the dark. I’ll hold you just this way. Your hair will catch the starlight.” He imagines her ruddy with cold, a red scarf around her neck.

He thinks they’ll spend many winters here. He thinks this is a house that they’ll return to over the years. A good place for Edwina and her brothers and her sisters to grow. Better than New York City.

To Mary it’s just a place to be lonely. Edwin’s engagements often take him away.

In order to diagnose Mary, Dr. Miller must perform the very examination she’d hoped to avoid. He takes a good, long, painful look inside. Then he goes to find Edwin, standing by the parlor fire, smoking his pipe. Dr. Miller is encouraging. He tells Edwin that Mary’s condition is serious, but not dangerous. Edwin’s been telling himself that Mary will, of course, recover, but how wonderful to hear it confirmed. He’s surprised by the physicality of his relief. His legs give way and he must sit down, but maybe he doesn’t even need legs. He’s so light with joy that he’s floating.

“I’ll return her to you in the glow of health in six months’ time,” Dr. Miller promises. “If she does exactly what she’s told.”

Edwin is about to leave for another run in New York. Mary will rest here and recover, well cared for by Dr. Miller. And Edwin can drink unimpeded. It works for everyone.

Dr. Miller’s prescription is for absolute rest. No outings, no visitors. Even Mary’s time with Edwina is strictly limited. The boredom cure. A good time to learn Sanskrit, one of her friends says jokingly.

There are other aspects to Dr. Miller’s treatment that leave Mary in tears after every visit and make her dread the next one. She never tells Edwin what’s being done to her and he never asks.

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