The next day, Mr. Dalton visited the Pendleton residence. When he knocked, the maid who always opened the door for him when he visited the mansion came out and told him that they were not receiving guests.

Having expected to be turned away at the door, he asked the maid to at least deliver a letter. But the maid only replied stiffly that she was not allowed to accept anything from guests.

In the end, Mr. Dalton had no choice but to leave only his calling card and withdraw.

But he could not bear to leave. So he stood across from the house and stared at the windows for hours. Through the uncurtained windows, he could occasionally see Miss Pendleton passing by.

Only after confirming her appearance could he turn away, feeling an indescribable bitterness.

As such days continued, he began to grow anxious. The fear sprouted that Miss Pendleton may have closed her heart to him forever.

For several days, he could do nothing but smoke cigarettes and loiter near Miss Pendleton’s house every day. Even though he knew it was of no use.

In the midst of this, a telegram arrived that made it impossible to postpone his return home any longer. The parish priest in his domain, Mr. Genfield, had passed away.

Considering Mr. Genfield’s age, it was not surprising, but since he had been quite healthy until Ian’s departure, it was unexpected for Ian. He realized that he had stayed in London for too long. It was time to go down to Whitefield. To comfort the bereaved family and appoint a new priest.

After putting down the telegram, he immediately inquired about the earliest train. It was in an hour. He gave two instructions to the servant who informed him of the train time.

To pack his luggage for returning to Whitefield. And to send telegrams to both Whitefield and Dunville Park informing of his return. This was carried out immediately.

He sat at a desk in the corner of the guest room where the servants were busy packing and took out a sheet of paper. Then he picked up a pen and hurriedly began to write a letter.

−−−−−−−−

My dear Miss Pendleton,

I am writing to inform you of my situation as I must suddenly leave London. The parish priest, Mr. Genfield, has passed away, and I am returning to Whitefield as both a mourner and the landlord who must exercise the right to appoint a new priest. I intend to return to London as soon as the situation is resolved. I cannot settle in Whitefield before restoring the relationship with Miss Pendleton that has been forcibly severed.

I know that Miss Pendleton has been avoiding me since the picnic. And regarding that matter, I hold no resentment towards Miss Pendleton and therefore feel no desire to reproach you. I only hope that the bridge of friendship between Miss Pendleton and myself will be reconnected. I expect that at least a chance for explanation will be given when I return from Whitefield.

Your faithful servant,

Ian Dalton.

−−−−−−−−

He immediately put the letter in an envelope, sealed it, and placed it in his inner jacket pocket before opening a drawer and taking out a frame that was inside. It was a small painting of the Whitefield landscape.

Right after promising to gift Miss Pendleton a painting of Whitefield, he had chosen the best one among dozens of Whitefield landscape sketches in his sketchbook, colored it, and framed it. It was for gifting to her someday.

He had planned to ask her if she would come live there with him. That was the plan.

He wrapped the painting in plain wrapping paper and tied it with a string in a cross shape. Then he took it outside. As per his previous instructions, all his luggage was loaded onto the carriage. He rode the carriage towards the Pendleton residence.

Soon the carriage stopped in front of the mansion. He got out of the carriage carrying the package with the letter tucked inside the string. And he immediately knocked on the front door of the Pendleton house. The young maid who always greeted him came out.

The maid looked at him with a very dry expression.

“I’m sorry, but we are not receiving visitors, sir.”

He held out the package.

“Please give this to Miss Pendleton.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to accept anything on behalf of any guest.”

It was the same answer as last time. He spoke in an anxious voice, conscious of the train time.

“Make an exception this time. It’s an urgent situation. I have to leave for my estate right now.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s your circumstance, sir.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to tie these to a rock and throw them through the window.”

“If it’s something you must deliver so earnestly, why don’t you properly mail it at the post office?”

“I would if I had time. But I have to catch a train in 30 minutes!”

The maid looked at Ian for a moment. Then she crossed her arms and spoke in a relaxed tone.

“It’s not within my authority. What if I get fired for disobeying orders?”

“I’ll arrange a job for you at another house in London. Or would you like to come work in Yorkshire?”

“I don’t like the countryside.”

‘A city-slicker brat.’

He took out two pound notes from his wallet and placed them on top of the package. There was no better bribery method for a city-slicker brat than pounds.

The maid looked at the two pound notes and then took the package. Mr. Dalton turned around and started walking towards the carriage. But then he heard the maid’s voice from behind.

“Mr. Dalton!”

Ian turned to look at the maid. The maid took a step towards him. And she held out the 2 pounds back to him. Mr. Dalton frowned.

“Are you asking for more?”

The maid shook her head.

“Listen to something else.”

“You want to make a deal?”

“That’s right. 2 pounds is trivial to me.”

He looked at the maid, wondering what this was about. But the maid didn’t bat an eye.

“In exchange for delivering this to the young miss, you must come back to London. Come back and steal Miss Pendleton’s heart.”

“What?”

“I’m saying to regroup in Yorkshire and try to win our young miss’s heart again. Surely you won’t just give up after coming so persistently?”

Mr. Dalton looked at the maid with a dumbfounded expression. The maid tucked the 2 pounds into his jacket and shut the door with a bang.

Mr. Dalton got into the carriage immediately, conscious of the pressing time. But in his mind, the maid’s words from just now were stuck.

Come back and capture Miss Pendleton’s heart.

Mr. Dalton leaned back in the departing carriage and sighed.

Damn, if only I could do it right now.

* * *

Anne entered the study carrying the package. The study, which was usually noisy with the sound of the typewriter, was quiet today. Miss Hyde, who frequently visited, had gone for an interview at a publishing house arranged by Mr. Fairfax, so Miss Pendleton was alone.

As always, she was spending time translating a Latin Bible with a white lace shawl draped over her shoulders.

Anne stood across the desk and showed the package to Miss Pendleton.

“What’s this?”

“Mr. Dalton came again today.”

“I told you not to accept anything.”

Anne made a pitiful face and said,

“I couldn’t help it. He shoved it into my hands before I could refuse and left without giving me a chance to stop him.”

Miss Pendleton let out a low sigh and took it. She looked at the package and then unwrapped it. Inside was a small-sized frame containing a landscape painted with watercolors. Miss Pendleton stared at the painting for a while and then said to Anne, who was craning her neck to look at the frame,

“Would you like to come and see?”

Anne approached the young miss’s side and looked at the painting. A dazzling rural landscape was spread out in the small frame.

There was a vast field in front of winding mountains with cute farmhouses clustered together, and next to it was a beautiful lake and white birch trees forming a forest. And on one side of the painting was a beautiful white mansion.

Anne exclaimed in admiration.

“It’s so wonderful. Whose painting is this?”

“It’s Mr. Dalton’s work.”

Anne was genuinely surprised.

“Wow, really? That gentleman is an artist.”

“Indeed. He uses color very well. I didn’t know he could paint this well.”

“But where is this?”

“Whitefield. Mr. Dalton’s estate.”

Gifting a landscape of his estate to a lady. His intentions were clear. He probably wanted to show where he lived to the woman he liked. He might also want to tempt her by saying she could live here if she accepted his proposal.

Anne secretly smiled, seeing right through that elegant gentleman’s intentions.

But did our young miss notice this fact? Anne glanced at Miss Pendleton’s profile. The one who actually received this was just looking at the painting with an unreadable, calm expression.

“Anne, tell Leon to hang this in the drawing room.”

“Where shall we place it?”

“Above the jade side table.”

“The most prominent spot in the drawing room?”

“Mr. Dalton painted it himself, so of course we should hang it in a fitting place.”

“Yes, miss.”

Anne obediently answered and left the room to hang the painting in the drawing room.

That evening, Anne knocked and entered the young miss’s room to do Miss Pendleton’s hair. Miss Pendleton was standing looking out the window. There was a letter in Miss Pendleton’s hand.

When Anne entered, Miss Pendleton sat down at the dressing table. Anne approached behind Miss Pendleton and began to undo and brush her pinned-up hair while examining Miss Pendleton’s face in the mirror.

Miss Pendleton had her eyes downcast with a rather sunken face, lost in thought. Anne’s gaze naturally turned towards the letter placed on the dressing table.

Anne was dying to know about the letter that had come to her. A week ago, after the young miss returned from the picnic with a clouded face, she had been in seclusion, not receiving any guests.

Though she said she had fallen ill from being on the water too long, to Anne’s eyes, who had served the young miss for nearly ten years, Miss Pendleton seemed fine. She just didn’t want to receive guests.

And for a whole week, that gentleman had come. The handsome young gentleman Ian Dalton who had been frequenting the Pendleton house threshold for the past month.