Whenever he visits, he can see how very dull her life is. It’s not like Mary to complain, but rather than improve, she seems to him to be wilting. When John comes to town, Edwin takes her to the theater against her doctor’s orders. What Dr. Miller doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

John is playing the villainous Duke Pescara in The Apostate.

O Fortune,

Thy smile still follows me, and each event

Swells the deep rush of Fate, in whose swift tide

I’ll plunge the man I loathe.

It all seems quite normal, to be sitting with Mary in the dark, the sound of the audience shifting about them, a cough or two from the boxes, or the silence of the audience spellbound. As he watches, he takes her hand, wonders what her sharp mind will see in John’s performance.

Edwin himself is impressed. A few rough edges, he thinks, but he’ll make his mark. He’s worth a dozen polished, bloodless players. John is full of the true grit.

Mary doesn’t disagree, but she adds that John still has much to learn and more to unlearn. This is just the outcome Edwin would have chosen, for John to be good, but not as good as Edwin.

John’s career is flourishing. He’s using his full name now, and his playbills say, “I Have no Brother. I am no Brother. I am Myself Alone.”

His audience is rougher than Edwin’s, his reviews more mixed, though mostly good. Where he really excels is swordplay. He can fight right- and left-handed. He can make it so real he frightens his fellow players. There are some who buy tickets just to see him do that. Others come for his handsome face. Managers have taken to appearing onstage before his appearances to plead with the ladies in attendance to act like ladies. On leaving the theater, John’s had gloves ripped from his hands, buttons from his coat, hair from his head. Notes with unladylike offers arrive daily in his dressing rooms.

He’s making great sums of money. It’s not clear where it’s all going.

—

Whenever he’s alone in New York, Edwin drinks. His friends are increasingly concerned. In February, at their insistence, he moves in with the Stoddards. Richard puts together a team to watch over him, a schedule so that he’s never left alone. Within a day, Edwin sees what they’re up to. They don’t know with whom they’re dealing!

Edwin’s been trained to give people the slip, trained at his father’s knee.

Richard reasons, remonstrates, pleads, and threatens. He takes hold of Edwin, but just say the word poet and the picture that comes into your mind will be Richard Stoddard. He’s a fragile, ethereal man. Edwin’s no head-knocker, but he can best Richard Stoddard.