June has left California for good, selling his house and quitting his theater. His finances have forced him back on the road—he’s been touring since May. He, too, makes many visits to the New York house, one of the family again after so many years away. His daughter, whom they call Molly, is a lively addition. A hoyden, a handful. Asia adores her niece. She reminds Asia of Asia.

These visits, with her children (all but Joe) and her grandchildren under the same roof, may be the happiest time in Mother’s long and difficult life. She loves to walk into a room and find a group there, planning an outing or laughing about something one of the children has said. Edwin’s house comfortably holds them all and they’re gathered there one day in August of 1864, expecting John, who is late.

When he finally arrives, his condition is shocking. He staggers through the door and faints dead away in the entryway, his head hitting with a bang on the gleaming wooden floor. June picks him up too easily. He’s thinner than Asia has ever seen him.

Edwin runs for the doctor while the rest of the family crowds around his bed. Asia thinks that he looks like a beautiful marble statue, a gravestone angel. This image takes strong hold of her—her brother’s pale, dead face. Since she’ll never actually see him dead, this is the picture she’ll carry. It will come to feel later as if she saw his ghost while he was still alive.

When he comes to, he’s in terrible pain. He’s suffering from an infection—St. Anthony’s fire, or erysipelas—in his right elbow as a result of one of his vigorous sword fights. “For God’s sake, die!” his exhausted opponent, Richmond to his Richard, had told him. “Either you die or I will!” His arm is a bright, angry red, the skin raised. He’s running a high fever, has chills and shakes. The doctor comes and cuts his arm open to allow the pus to drain. The doctor doesn’t say so, but the possibility of amputation is on everyone’s mind.

Instead, under his mother’s care, John improves quickly. Soon enough, it’s clear that both his arm and he will survive. Still he’s weak and bedridden for another three weeks. Asia enjoys visiting the sickroom, seeing John turn into the little boy he once was. She reads him plays and poetry, makes him lemonades and teas, keeps his cut clean and dry.