A song of bird calls, sloshing waves, and whispering leaves lulled Izabel to drowsiness as she leaned against a palm trunk. Today's task felt more like leisure than work -- until a stuffy British voice broke into her daydreaming.

"Girl, fetch the small leather valise from the carriage."

"Sim, Senhora." Izabel dashed uphill to the road, darting through a tangle of bushes and vine-twined trunks.

"Is she ready to leave?" Rubinho straightened from his slouch at the rear of the carriage.

"Não. Remember? She said we'd be here all day."

He huffed. "I can't understand a word she says."

"I translated. You weren't listening to me." Izabel found the valise. "You never do."

Rubinho hoisted feed bags and went to tend the horses, grumbling about wasted freedom. "Nothing to do out here but kick my heels."

Izabel took the valise to the grand visitor. Lady North perched in a swirl of long skirts on a folding chair Rubinho had carried to the beach hours ago. Izabel took one look at the easel and gasped. "That is lovely, Senhora!" she blurted.

"Yes, lovely," Marianne North echoed, gazing out at the bay. "The morning sun set a perfect angle for light and shadow, and the waters shine like silver. Lush purple hills beyond. A most delightful scene."

"Is it finished?" Belatedly, Izabel slapped a hand to her mouth and stepped back. "Pardon me, Senhora. I'll keep silent now."

"No, no, child. You may speak while I rest my eyes a moment. You have done so well this morning, I nearly forgot your presence. In fact, if your mistress will allow, I might borrow your services again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Indeed. The governor has arranged a skiff to take me to Ilha de Paquetá. That island over yonder, if I'm not mistaken."

Lady North chuckled. "He thought it such a peculiar request, that I would turn down high tea in his palace in favor of a solitary excursion into the wilds of Rio de Janeiro. But I have no use for high society, not when there is such a plethora of exotic plants to capture."

"Capture?"

"On canvas, dear child. Or cardboard, rather, which I find much more suitable for plein air painting on my travels. Lighter weight, you see. Much more compact than a bundle of stretched frames. Can you lift this satchel, ah, what was your name?"

"Izabel. Like the princess. Sim, this is not too heavy."

"Then you shall come with me tomorrow and carry the boards." Lady North cocked her head. "What is your ancestry, Izabel? You're not of African descent like the coachman. You have a lovely sienna tone to your skin."

Izabel felt a flush rise under that piercing scrutiny. "I have Tupi blood, Senhora."

"An original Brazilian! How delightful!"

" 'Original'? Some of my ancestors were Tupi, but--"

"Now if I was a portrait painter instead of a botanist, I might be inclined to have you do a sitting, you and the black coachman and perhaps a fair-skinned Portuguese maid as well. A tableau to capture the essence of this fascinating country."

Izabel backed off a step, uneasy at the thought of this grand foreigner posing her like a puppet on a stage, among other puppets of different hues, different stations in life. A fair-skinned maid might hope to marry up. Rubinho, she knew, was saving to buy his freedom from slavery. She herself sat somewhere in between.

Lady North rambled on. "But no, I've already settled on my next subject. Just up the hill I noticed a fine specimen of epiphyte climbing a Tibouchina tree."

"An epi-what?"

"Whilst a parasite feasts off its host and saps its strength, an epiphyte merely uses its host as a ladder, reaching higher towards the sky. There. Your botany lesson for the day. Now, I believe, I shall add a touch of cerulean blue to my landscape before your unbelievably hot afternoon sun touches us with crimson." The middle-aged botanist rummaged through tubes of oil paint nestled in the leather valise.

Izabel edged away, glancing at tree trunks all around, draped by vines and creepers and tendrils. Trees like the Tupi people, she thought -- rooted deep over the ages, encumbered over these last two centuries by European parasites and African epiphytes -- limbs and vines now so tightly entwined there was no hope of untangling the strands.

19th century public domain artwork by English botanist Marianne North during her visit to Brazil, 1872-1873, where the large labor force of African slaves was not emancipated until 1888 by Princess Isabel. By that time there were few native Tupi people left, after the ravages of diseases from Europe.

Top painting: Palm Trees and Boulders in the Bay of Rio

Middle painting: Bananas and Rocks at Paquet, Brazil

Bottom painting: Trees Laden with Parasites and Epiphytes in a Brazilian Garden

Reader: Is the ending too much of a downer?