Mr. Dalton simply turned and left. Miss Pendleton was bewildered but thought it was Mr. Dalton’s strange playfulness and went into the house. She then began to trim the flowers she had soaked in water to finish the flower arrangement she had been working on earlier.

However, while cutting with scissors, the image of Miss Lance and Mr. Dalton walking together in Hyde Park earlier came to her mind.

As the one who introduced Mr. Dalton, Miss Pendleton felt responsible for protecting Miss Lance in their relationship. She began to ponder deeply about Mr. Dalton and Miss Lance.

Mr. Dalton and Miss Lance. Miss Lance and Mr. Dalton. Had the two really fallen in love?

It wasn’t entirely implausible. Miss Lance was probably the most beautiful maiden among London’s aristocratic ladies, and Mr. Dalton was a handsome young man hard to find not only in London but anywhere in England.

Miss Lance lacked a large dowry but had a title, while Mr. Dalton had no title but possessed a family background more impressive than a title and the wealth built upon it. It seemed there could be no better-matched couple.

However, the unsettling part remained unresolved. Mr. Dalton’s quiet and aloof demeanor. That quiet attitude, difficult to show towards someone one cares for. It was the opposite of what she had expected Mr. Dalton to be like when in love.

But perhaps that was Mr. Dalton’s way of loving. Hiding his feelings from others and only revealing his heart fully in front of his lover.

The only concerning part was whether Miss Lance might have misunderstood Mr. Dalton’s feelings and was only pursuing her own emotions.

Though it seemed unlikely for Miss Lance, Miss Pendleton worried about her pride. Miss Lance was not only beautiful but also intellectually superior to most ladies. She knew many things and was full of talents. But at only twenty years old, she lacked experience and knew nothing beyond what she had learned from books and what her friends told her.

And the biggest problem was that she didn’t know how much she didn’t know.

She was surrounded by too many fans, all busy praising her. And Miss Lance accepted those praises indiscriminately.

In this situation, it was natural to suspect that Miss Lance might have fallen for Mr. Dalton on her own. It would be terrible if someone around her had encouraged and put fantasies in her mind. The embarrassment she would feel upon realizing Mr. Dalton’s indifference towards her would be indescribable.

Miss Pendleton paused her thoughts for a moment. She had finished trimming the flowers. She focused on arranging the flowers in the vase for a while.

After placing all the flowers, she turned the vase this way and that, examining the overall harmony. She hummed thoughtfully and then took out a few daffodils to replant. This greatly improved the overall shape.

Miss Pendleton immediately took the vase to the living room and placed it on the table where guests would see it first upon entering. Then she went to the kitchen and discussed wages with Mr. Germain, who was resting briefly before starting dinner preparations.

He beamed at the sudden proposal of a wage increase, expressing his joy in French, and began to fuss about making her favorite fruit pudding for dinner tonight. She thought to herself that she wouldn’t have to worry about Mr. Germain leaving for a while and returned to her room.

As she returned to her room, her interrupted thoughts resumed.

On the other hand, she wondered if her suspicion was underestimating Miss Lance. Just because Miss Lance was full of pride, where was the guarantee that she would be so foolish? From what she had observed over the past three years, Miss Lance had never mishandled things due to her pride.

Even in a situation where so many fans around her seemed determined to turn her into a bundle of vanity by showering her with nothing but praise, she acted with a certain self-awareness. She was weak to compliments about her appearance but didn’t easily get swayed by other opinions. It was evidence that Miss Lance had discernment within her.

Miss Pendleton decided to trust Miss Lance and put aside the suspicion that she alone liked Mr. Dalton. And she thought about the case where the two had feelings for each other.

Assuming that Mr. Dalton’s earlier remark about “no longer needing matchmaking” was with Miss Lance in mind, if their feelings came to fruition and led to marriage… that would truly be an excellent thing.

At that moment, a faint pain blossomed in Laura’s heart. But she was so busy following her thoughts that she didn’t even recognize it. She continued her train of thought.

It would be a marriage beneficial to both of them. Mr. Dalton was a fastidious gentleman, but he was rational, intelligent, and had a broad view of the world. If she married and lived with him, Miss Lance could grow in many aspects under his good influence.

It would be a good marriage for Mr. Dalton as well. He would be forming a family with the most beautiful unmarried maiden currently in London. He would enjoy the rich happiness of a home with a beautiful and talented wife. Isn’t that the greatest happiness a man could dream of?

Moreover, her title and the accompanying connections in aristocratic society could help him in his future business endeavors.

Miss Pendleton thought that if the two loved each other, a perfect marriage would be formed. She concluded her thoughts by deciding to calmly observe future developments and left the window.

* * *

May had already arrived. The world began to shine dazzlingly and bloom abundantly. The full-fledged social season had begun in earnest.

It was the time when the upper classes, who had been lingering in their estates or spending leisurely time at resorts, gathered in London as if moths drawn to light. In London’s townhouse-concentrated areas, invitations to all sorts of parties, formal dinners, balls, and concerts were exchanged daily, and every night a dazzling feast of pleasure unfolded.

However, Mrs. Abigail Pendleton’s townhouse here stood a step back from the pleasures.

The respected Mrs. Abigail Pendleton, having withdrawn from social circles for 20 years, was content with her refined pastime as an advisor to artists. Even that was turning into a life close to seclusion due to her deteriorating health lately.

She now often sat alone in a rocking chair, withdrawing even from attending tea parties within the Pendleton mansion, and sometimes retreated to bed when even that became difficult. Miss Pendleton, originally introverted, became even more distant from socializing, conscious of her grandmother’s condition.

She mostly stayed by her bedridden grandmother’s side, reading books to her or tending to her medication. And when her grandmother fell asleep, she would have a servant watch over her and spend her time in the library. She sat at the large oak desk, reading books, writing letters, and studying.

She cherished that time immensely. It was her inherent nature to love quiet and peaceful times. She loved the desk she always sat at, loved the books crammed into the bookshelves, and loved the time she could quietly enjoy for herself.

But lately, her library was neither peaceful nor quiet. It was because she had someone to spend the afternoon hours with.

Miss Hyde, having received Miss Pendleton’s proposal two months ago, visited Miss Pendleton’s house the very next day. At first, Miss Hyde hesitated, wondering if it was alright to receive such kindness from Miss Pendleton, but Miss Pendleton unhesitatingly took her to the library.

Miss Hyde, seeing such a large library among London townhouses for the first time, was quite surprised and slowly looked around the cozy place.

Amidst walls surrounded by oak bookshelves, a subtle fireplace was burning. On one side of the library were two large desks, one facing away from the window and one facing the fireplace, forming an L-shape. They were both large and splendid desks.

While Miss Hyde was captivated by the sight of the library, Miss Pendleton crouched down under the desk opposite the fireplace and began to pull something out with grunts.

Miss Hyde heard Miss Pendleton calling for help and approached her side, soon realizing it was a typewriter. Miss Hyde quickly went to her and helped pull out the typewriter. Together, they lifted it onto the desk.

Miss Hyde looked at the typewriter with wide eyes. The typewriter was perfectly suited for office use. It looked black, sturdy, and professional.

“How on earth did you get this?”

“I bought it second-hand from an office supply store. I think a law firm went out of business. You can prepare any kind of document with this.”

Miss Hyde looked at the typewriter as if examining a curious relic.

“Did you practice with this? To become a typist?”

“Yes.”

Miss Hyde exclaimed in surprise at Miss Pendleton’s answer.

“That’s amazing. I’ve never even thought of such a thing before.”

“When the future seems uncertain, you have to do something.”

“Then, are you going to become a typist too, Miss Pendleton?”

Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“In the year I turned twenty-five, I was wandering just like you, Miss Hyde. I thought marriage wasn’t for me. So I had to make a living. While walking down the street wondering what I could do to make a living, I found a typewriter and immediately bought it and typed for three months straight.”

Laura sighed softly, as if recalling those times.

“By the time I could fill a page without errors even with my eyes closed, I felt some relief. With help from an acquaintance, I also learned about document formatting from a typist. Only when I reached a state where I could get a job at any time could I seriously imagine myself working in an office.”

Miss Pendleton frowned as if that image she had drawn was coming back to her mind.

“Conversations with unfamiliar men, thick cigar smoke, paperwork to be tackled every day. Everything was unsuitable for me. So I eventually gave up.”

Miss Hyde tilted her head.

“It’s the opposite for me. I can’t stand the cloying kindness that gentlemen bestow on ladies. I’d rather they smoke and give me various instructions. That’s how my late father always treated me. I liked that, Miss Pendleton.”

“Yes, Miss Hyde is the opposite of me. You’ll probably do well. Well enough to make a living with this.”

Miss Pendleton took Miss Hyde’s hand.

“But first, you need to become an expert. Here.”

Miss Pendleton placed the hand she was holding on the typewriter. And made her press a key with one finger. The sound of a click echoed through the quiet library.

It was Miss Hyde’s first time typing on a typewriter. She was surprised by the sensation felt at her fingertip. She was on the verge of shaking from the vibration. There was a stirring in her heart. A little frightening but exciting, and heart-pounding.

“Miss Hyde, would you like to learn typing from me?”