Chapter 18
<18> Little Chick Miss Hyde (2)
Miss Pendleton neither rebuked her nor agreed with her. She simply took her hand and said,
“Miss Hyde probably won’t live her life just typing.”
“Pardon?”
“Typing would be too monotonous a task for Miss Hyde.”
“Miss Pendleton, I haven’t even gotten a job yet.”
“I know. I’m getting ahead of myself. But I want you to remember these words when our paths diverge and I’m no longer by your side. Miss Hyde is a smart and strong young lady, and more than that, she yearns for a new world. So Miss Hyde, if another opportunity comes along, don’t be afraid to push forward. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”
Miss Hyde quietly looked down at Miss Pendleton’s hand. A small, white hand. And a slender wrist and arm. Miss Hyde’s gaze traveled up the arm to the small shoulder, covered by clothing. A delicate neckline. And then to a thoughtful and kind face.
Miss Hyde gazed at her face quietly, feeling a little wistful. She was genuinely curious.
Why hadn’t Miss Pendleton found love? Unlike herself, she was so beautiful and delicate. And she wasn’t a woman who shied away from marriage with a man, like herself.
But Miss Hyde didn’t ask Miss Pendleton such an impolite question, considering all the time, advice, and the typewriter she had generously shared. She simply held her hand tightly and promised to keep practicing.
While the two ladies were diligently preparing for the future with determined hearts, the date of the spring picnic planned by Miss Lance was fast approaching.
* * *
Miss Lance was determined to spend her twentieth summer with grand entertainment and indulgence. It might be the last social season she would spend as a single woman.
Miss Lance sent letters to all the young ladies and gentlemen she knew, inviting them to a picnic together. If everyone attended, there would be well over thirty people. Naturally, Mr. Dalton was the very first gentleman she sent an invitation to.
Miss Pendleton received her letter and sent back a reply, gladly accepting the invitation. As Miss Pendleton wrote her reply, Miss Hyde, sitting at the desk next to her, frowned, shaking her head, wondering why Miss Lance, whom she had barely exchanged a few greetings with, had sent her an invitation.
Miss Pendleton suggested that she come to the picnic with her. Miss Hyde would likely be employed sometime this year, and if that happened, this kind of amusement would be out of her reach for a while. But deep down, Miss Pendleton had another intention.
It was to reconcile Mr. Fairfax and Miss Hyde.
For both Mr. Fairfax and Miss Hyde, the previous proposal was an embarrassing incident that couldn’t be undone. But Mr. Fairfax held no grudges, and Miss Hyde had no feelings for him, so there was no reason why the two couldn’t be friends again.
And in fact, Miss Pendleton desperately hoped that Miss Hyde could get a job through Mr. Fairfax’s introduction, as much as she wanted their friendship to be restored. For Miss Hyde, who was new to social life, starting her career in a reliable workplace was worth enduring the awkward past.
Due to Miss Pendleton’s subtle encouragement, Miss Hyde decided to go to the picnic hosted by Miss Lance with Miss Pendleton.
The picnic was on a sunny day in late June. The ladies and gentlemen who would participate in the picnic immediately gathered at the Lance residence.
There were at least twenty ladies and gentlemen, with women making up two-thirds of the group, as always. Since most of the men were overseas to accumulate wealth, London society was always crowded with ladies.
Soon, four carriages were prepared in front of the mansion. They were four-seater carriages with open roofs. The few gentlemen were willing to escort the ladies and act as coachmen. In society, gentlemen had a duty to serve the ladies’ entertainment.
They each sat on the driver’s seat, and the ladies gathered in groups of three or five with their closest friends, holding up their colorful parasols and sitting in the carriages. Soon, the carriages set off for the outskirts of London.
The scenery outside the carriage gradually changed from shops and squares to green mountains and fields. The ladies enjoyed the ride, chatting happily as they swayed with the movement of the carriage. Even when the wheels hit a rock and jolted, the ladies giggled.
The loudest carriage was the one carrying Miss Lance and her friends. Miss Lance’s three friends, Miss Daisy Orson, Miss Susan Donovan, and Miss Victoria Wilkes, had just come up to London from Bath, Yorkshire, and Yorkshire, respectively, last week.
They had met every day for the past week, sharing every little detail of the events they had experienced while apart. The topic of conversation was, of course, the local society they had encountered and the men they had met there.
They talked in detail about the charm and wealth of the men they had met, and spent time discussing how far they had progressed with them and whether they were worth meeting again.
But in the current picnic carriage, such topics were not appropriate. The driver’s seat and the carriage seat were within arm’s reach. Moreover, the man sitting in the driver’s seat of their carriage was none other than Ian Dalton.
They already knew quite a bit about Ian Dalton. He was the name most frequently mentioned by the ladies when they landed in London. His wealth and status were already a public topic of conversation among young ladies and women with daughters to marry off.
And the fact that the Lance residence was the first place he was invited to a Formal dinner was being talked about just as much.
The three ladies were curious about what the rumored Ian Dalton was really like, and they also wanted to know what kind of time Miss Lance, who was the object of their admiration, had spent with Mr. Dalton.
At the first Tea party where all her friends had gathered this social season, Miss Lance had told them about her Ball and Formal dinner with him.
Before the story was even over, the three ladies intuitively felt that Mr. Dalton had fallen for Miss Lance. The way he looked at her and spoke to her, as described by Miss Lance, was exactly the same as that of Miss Lance’s admirers.
When Miss Daisy Orson mentioned that speculation, Miss Lance, of course, vehemently denied it. But she didn’t stop the three ladies from making Mr. Dalton the topic of conversation and praising him throughout the Tea party.
When Miss Susan Donovan from Yorkshire revealed the value of Ian Dalton’s assets that she had heard from her neighbors, the envy for Miss Lance, who had captured Mr. Dalton’s heart, grew even greater among them.
The ladies in the carriage had already firmly established the idea that hearts were floating between Mr. Dalton and Miss Lance. They were constantly aware of the handsome coachman driving the horses, and they kept talking to Mr. Dalton even as they laughed and chatted among themselves.
“Mr. Dalton, why haven’t you been having Formal dinner at the Lance residence lately? Miss Lance says you always refuse, even when she invites you?”
Mr. Dalton replied without turning around.
“I regret to say that I always have urgent matters that come up.”
“Oh, come on! What could be so urgent that you would refuse an invitation from the Lance residence? Being invited to the Lance residence is like receiving the title of the most respectable person in London.”
“If I had known it had such significance, I would have put aside everything else to attend. It’s a shame.”
Not an ounce of enthusiasm was mixed in his words, but thanks to the jolting of the carriage, his tone was not conveyed.
“I heard that you mainly appear at the Pendleton family’s Tea party. Do you enjoy spending time there?”
At Miss Daisy Orson’s words, Miss Susan Donovan chimed in.
“Hey, how could that be fun? Do they have any decent Concerts or Balls at that house? They just sit around and talk about books and music all the time.”
“Still, Mrs. Pendleton is an interesting person. And Miss Pendleton’s piano skills are wonderful. People with good taste greatly prefer the Pendleton family’s Tea party. Mr. Dalton must be interested in such refined things. That’s why he goes to the Pendleton residence so diligently. Isn’t that right, Mr. Dalton?”
Mr. Dalton replied simply. He was starting to get a headache from the constant noise of the chattering ladies.
“The food there is really delicious too. I don’t know who the chef is, but they must be French. Last time, at the Formal dinner party, they served barbecue, and the skin was so crispy that I ate it without thinking and almost burst my corset!”
The ladies giggled for a moment.
“The wine too, and the desserts. Mrs. Pendleton is quite the gourmet. She must have gone to great lengths to bring in the chef. But why does she spend so much money on food and not on her granddaughter? Leaving Miss Pendleton a spinster for so long.”
Miss Lance stepped in politely.
“Susan, it’s not appropriate for us to discuss Miss Pendleton’s marital status. It’s definitely something she would be upset to hear.”
Miss Susan Donovan glanced at Mr. Dalton and shut her mouth. But Miss Victoria Wilkes, who was next to Donovan, was less perceptive.
“But is there anyone in London who doesn’t know that Miss Pendleton doesn’t have a dowry? Miss Pendleton was a knockout in her prime. Well, she’s still okay for an old maid, but anyway, with the Pendleton name and that beauty, she should be riding around in a golden carriage and acting like a noblewoman by now. But the reason she hasn’t received a single decent proposal is because she doesn’t have any money to bring to the marriage. I think Miss Pendleton would readily admit that, too?”
Miss Orson, who had been listening, couldn’t contain her curiosity.
“But why didn’t the Pendleton family provide Miss Pendleton with money?”
Miss Victoria Wilkes asked back in surprise.
“You still don’t know? Miss Pendleton’s mother….”
“Victoria!”
