Miss Hyde nodded.

“Well, there’s no other answer than this.”

“I will teach quite strictly.”

Looking at Miss Pendleton’s gentle eyes with warm gray irises, Miss Hyde found it difficult to associate the word ‘strict’ with her.

However, she was the only person who could provide real help. She was the only one Miss Hyde could cling to, and she intended to entrust herself completely to her, no matter how she would be treated.

“Yes, Miss Pendleton. I’ll do whatever you say, so please teach me as you see fit.”

Miss Pendleton smiled softly, and thus Miss Hyde’s training began.

Miss Pendleton first instructed her to learn the positions of the alphabet. In Miss Pendleton’s study, she had her press the keys directly, and at home, she was to copy the typewriter layout on paper and keep it nearby, practicing typing the necessary letters even without looking.

The passionate student, Miss Hyde, learned all the positions with her eyes closed in less than a week.

But the real training was yet to begin. After all, a typist’s skill was to transcribe documents onto paper without typos. Miss Hyde began typing history books, novels, and prose collections from the study shelves every day.

Miss Pendleton stood by Miss Hyde’s side for five hours straight, watching her type.

Holding a thin cane.

When Miss Hyde confused the positions of the alphabet, she moved her fingers with the cane she was holding, and whenever she tried to take her eyes off the document, she struck the back of her hand. Although the force was just enough to sting slightly, Miss Hyde couldn’t help but feel tense.

At first, Miss Hyde was taken aback by Miss Pendleton and the cane in her hand. It seemed unlikely that the gentle and affectionate Miss Pendleton would resort to corporal punishment. But that was Miss Pendleton’s demeanor as a lady.

The Miss Pendleton who transformed into a teacher was a completely different person.

While teaching Miss Hyde, Miss Pendleton never showed the faint smile she usually wore. Her expression was stern, and her tone was extremely cold. When the typo rate was higher than usual, though her voice wasn’t raised, the scolding was severe enough to make one’s knees weak.

The first month was certainly a grueling time for Miss Hyde. After hours of being scolded by Miss Pendleton while practicing typing, her whole body would be exhausted. Her fingers, overworked for hours, ached at every joint, and her wrists hurt so much she couldn’t sleep at night.

Her mother shot veiled sarcasm disguised as concern at her back as she visited the Pendleton house every day, and her brother John openly criticized her for bringing shame to the family by trying to become a typist.

But she ignored it all. She was like a racehorse with blinders on. She had no time to look to the side or behind. A robber with a knife was chasing her from behind. That robber was an uncertain future. A future of living with her dreadful mother or struggling with poverty as a menial worker.

Fortunately, after a month, everything started to improve. She got used to the wrist pain, and her family grew tired of nagging and gave up. As she became accustomed to Miss Pendleton’s strict training methods, it became rather stimulating.

As she focused more on Miss Pendleton’s guidance, her typing skills steadily improved. The speed increased to the point where, after a week, two weeks, a month passed, she could transcribe a novel onto paper without typos in about three days.

She had acquired quite remarkable stenography skills at a point when there was still a month left of the three months Miss Pendleton had predicted.

And as her skills matured, Miss Hyde’s personality began to shed its previous gloominess and regain cheerfulness.

She no longer belittled herself or was pessimistic about the future. She no longer had to worry about not fitting into the world and threatening her livelihood. This was because she gained confidence that she could support herself through her profession.

And the more this happened, the more grateful Miss Hyde felt towards Miss Pendleton for giving her this opportunity.

One afternoon in May, Miss Hyde, as usual, finished typing a chapter of the novel she was set to complete for the day, organized the stack of papers beside her, and looked at Miss Pendleton while clenching and unclenching her aching fingers.

Miss Pendleton had put down the cane once Miss Hyde’s stenography skills had become comparable to her own. She then left her to practice on her own and sat at another desk nearby to do her own work.

With newfound peace of mind, Miss Hyde became curious about what her mentor was doing nearby.

“Miss Pendleton, what are you writing?”

Miss Hyde asked, and Miss Pendleton, who had been staring intently at the paper, slightly lifted the book to show it to Miss Hyde. Miss Hyde was surprised to realize it was a Bible in Latin.

“Miss Pendleton, your devotion is truly remarkable. You’re reading the Bible even though it’s not Sunday!”

Miss Pendleton, who had regained her usual gentleness after putting down the cane, shook her head and answered softly.

“Don’t praise my devotion. I’m not reading it for Bible study.”

“Then why?”

“I’m studying Latin, Miss Hyde.”

Miss Hyde was surprised and went to Miss Pendleton’s desk. Books were piled up next to Miss Pendleton. The Aeneid, the Odyssey, the Iliad. Miss Hyde opened the books. They were all in their original languages. Miss Hyde saw pages densely packed with incomprehensible Latin and Greek.

Miss Hyde looked at Miss Pendleton with an astonished gaze. Miss Pendleton had also put down her pen, seemingly intending to take a break. On the paper where the pen had just been working diligently, Psalm 23:3 was faithfully translated into Latin.

“He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”

“Miss Pendleton, do you know Latin? Greek too?”

Miss Pendleton nodded.

“Where did you learn them?”

“During my girls’ school days.”

“But girls’ schools only teach French and German, don’t they?”

“Generally, yes. But our school had Latin and Greek classes. They were mostly focused on basic grammar, but they laid a good foundation. Thanks to that, I can translate reasonably well on my own with just a dictionary.”

Miss Hyde looked at Miss Pendleton with an amazed expression, then pulled a chair next to her and sat down, asking,

“That’s amazing. To be able to read such thick books entirely. If you were a man, you could have easily attended Oxford, Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Pendleton smiled.

“I may not be able to attend Oxford, but I should at least be able to help students who want to attend Oxford. That way, I could teach boys over thirteen as well.”

“Miss Pendleton, are you planning to become a governess?”

“Yes, for now at least.”

Miss Hyde finally realized what Miss Pendleton had been doing beside her all this time while she was practicing typing. She had thought she was just reading, but in fact, she had been studying to become a governess all along.

Miss Hyde looked closely at Miss Pendleton’s face.

Miss Pendleton’s fair and delicate facial features always looked feminine to Miss Hyde. To Miss Hyde, Miss Pendleton always appeared as a quiet and thoughtful young lady. She responded kindly to whatever was said and never got angry no matter what happened.

A lady of dignity by anyone’s standards. That’s why Miss Hyde couldn’t help but be surprised to learn that Miss Pendleton was preparing for her future so aggressively.

“But Miss Pendleton, weren’t you the top of your class at the school you attended with Rosemary? And you speak French like a native speaker too.”

“I did graduate at the top of my class. And I’m fairly good at French. But that’s not enough.”

“Surely not, you’d be welcomed in any household. Any home with daughters, that is.”

“When any family’s finances decline, the first thing they give up is their daughters’ education. The treatment is worse than for tutors for boys, and the employment is unstable.”

Miss Hyde finally understood Miss Pendleton’s intention.

Miss Hyde herself knew well. After the Hyde family began to decline, she had to leave school immediately and return home. But her younger brother was still, as if it were natural, studying at Eton School.

“Indeed, if you know Latin and Greek, your chances of being employed in households with boys would increase. Your salary would go up too. Then, Miss Pendleton, do you plan to work as a governess for life?”

“Yes. If possible. But if the demand for governesses decreases, I’m thinking of working at a school. There are still teachers who taught me at the school I graduated from. The headmistress is still the same. If I write to them, I think they would give me a teaching position. I’d like to work there until retirement and start a secluded life around fifty. If I work for twenty years, I should have enough money to buy a small house in the suburbs.”

Miss Pendleton said this and quietly organized the books and writing materials she had been studying.

“How about you, Miss Hyde? Have you been thinking about your future lately?”

Miss Hyde rested her chin on the desk and spoke hesitantly.

“I’ve been reading the newspaper often these days. I pay particular attention to job advertisements for typists. They’re from law offices, tax offices, sometimes newspaper companies or publishing houses. I’d prefer a position at a publishing house if possible. Although the pay might be less, I’d be able to see many new books coming out. But I’d take any position I can get. Then I’ll earn money and find a boarding house to move out.”

“Does your mother know about your plans?”

“No. But I’m not worried. Mother can’t stand me about as much as I can’t stand her. At first, she’ll probably get angry and make a fuss, but once I actually leave, I think she’ll feel relieved. And after about a year, she probably won’t even remember I existed. Me leaving home is for the happiness of both my mother and myself. Miss Pendleton, it’s not a proper thing to say, but in this world, there are such mother-daughter relationships. Relationships that seem like mistaken connections, you know.”