Chapter 23
<23> Homecoming
The next day, Mr. Dalton went to the Pendleton residence. When he knocked on the door, the maid, who always opened the door for him whenever he visited the mansion, came out and told him that Miss Pendleton was not receiving guests.
Anticipating a cold reception, he asked the maid to at least deliver a letter. However, the maid simply replied stiffly that she was not allowed to receive anything from guests.
In the end, Mr. Dalton had no choice but to leave his visiting card and retreat.
However, he couldn't bring himself to leave. So he stood across the street from the house and watched the windows for hours. Through the windows where the curtains were not drawn, he could occasionally see Miss Pendleton passing by.
Only after confirming her presence could he turn away, feeling an indescribable bitterness.
As such days continued, he began to grow restless. The anxiety that Miss Pendleton might have closed her heart to him forever began to sprout.
For days, he did nothing but smoke cigars and loiter around Miss Pendleton's house, even though he knew it was all in vain.
In the midst of this, a telegram arrived that made it impossible to postpone his homecoming any longer. Mr. Jenfield, the parish priest of his Estate, had passed away.
Considering Mr. Jenfield's age, it wasn't surprising, but he had been quite healthy until Ian left, so it was unexpected. He realized that he had stayed in London for far 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 found out the fastest train. It was in an hour. He gave two instructions to the servant who informed him of the train time.
To pack his luggage to return to Whitefield. And to send telegrams to both Whitefield and Dunville Park that he was returning. It was done immediately.
He sat at a desk in the guest room, where the servants were busy packing, took out a piece of paper, and began to write a letter in haste.
Dear Miss Pendleton,
I am writing to inform you of my situation as I must suddenly leave London. Mr. Jenfield, the parish priest, has passed away, and I am returning to Whitefield as a mourner and the landowner who must exercise the right to appoint a priest. I intend to return to London as soon as the situation is settled. I cannot settle down in Whitefield until I restore the relationship with Miss Pendleton, which has been unfortunately severed.
I know that Miss Pendleton has been avoiding me since the picnic. And I have no resentment towards Miss Pendleton about that matter, and therefore, I do not feel like blaming you. I simply hope that the bridge of friendship with Miss Pendleton will be reconnected. I hope that I will at least be given a chance to explain when I return from Whitefield.
Your faithful servant,
Ian Dalton.
He immediately put the letter in an envelope, sealed it, and put it in his inside jacket pocket. Then, he opened a drawer and took out a frame that was inside. It was a small painting of the scenery of Whitefield.
Immediately after promising to give Miss Pendleton a painting of Whitefield, he had chosen the best one from dozens of Whitefield landscapes in his sketchbook, colored it, and put it in a frame. It was to give it to her someday.
He had intended to ask her to come and live with him there. That was the plan.
He wrapped the painting in plain wrapping paper and tied it with string in a cross shape. Then he took it outside. As he had instructed in advance, all his luggage was loaded onto the carriage. He took the carriage to the Pendleton residence.
Soon the carriage stopped in front of the mansion. He got out of the carriage with the package with the letter tucked inside the string. And he went straight to the front door of the Pendleton residence and knocked. 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 receive anything on behalf of any guests."
It was the same answer as last time. He said in an impatient 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 situation, sir."
"Then I'll have to tie these to a stone and throw them at the window."
"If it's something you need to convey so earnestly, you should send it officially by post office."
"I would have done that if I had time. But I have to catch a train in 30 minutes!"
The maid looked at Ian for a moment. And then she crossed her arms and said 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 in another house in London. Or, would you like to come and work in Yorkshire?"
"I hate the countryside."
'A city-slicker.'
He took out two pound notes from his wallet and placed them on top of the package. There was no better way to bribe a city-slicker than with pounds.
The maid looked at the two pounds 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 around and looked at the maid. The maid took a step towards him. And then she pushed the 2 pounds back at him. Mr. Dalton frowned.
"Do you want more?"
The maid shook her head.
"Please grant me another favor."
"Are you making a deal?"
"That's right. 2 pounds is trivial to me."
He looked at the maid, wondering what she was doing. But the maid didn't bat an eye.
"Instead of delivering this to Miss Pendleton, please make sure you come back to London. Come back and win Miss Pendleton's heart."
"What?"
"Reorganize yourself in Yorkshire and try to win our Miss Pendleton's heart again. You've been coming here so persistently, surely you won't just give up, will you?"
Mr. Dalton looked at the maid with a dumbfounded expression. The maid stuck the 2 pounds in his jacket, slammed the door shut, and went inside.
Mr. Dalton, conscious of the limited time, immediately got into the carriage. But the maid's words from just now were etched in his mind.
Come back and win Miss Pendleton's heart.
Mr. Dalton leaned back in the departing carriage and sighed.
Damn it, I'd do it right away if I could.
Ann took the package and went into the study. The study, which was usually noisy with the sound of a typewriter, was quiet today. Miss Hyde, who visited often, had gone to a publishing house for an interview arranged by Mr. Fairfax, so Miss Pendleton was alone.
As always, she was wearing a white lace shawl over her shoulders and spending her time translating the Latin Bible.
Ann stood across the desk and showed Miss Pendleton the package.
"What's that?"
"Mr. Dalton came again today."
"I told you not to receive anything."
Ann said with a tearful expression.
"I couldn't help it. He just handed it to me before I could refuse and left before I could catch him."
Miss Pendleton sighed deeply, took it, and looked at the package before unpacking it. Inside the package was a small frame, and inside it was a landscape painting painted with watercolors. Miss Pendleton stared at the painting and then said to Ann, who was craning her neck and looking at the frame,
"Want to come and see?"
Ann went to her mistress's side and looked at the painting. A dazzling rural landscape unfolded in the small frame.
Cute farmhouses were clustered together on a vast field with rolling mountains in the background, and next to it was a beautiful lake and a forest of white birch trees. And a beautiful white mansion on one side of the painting.
Ann was impressed.
"It's so wonderful. Who painted this?"
"It's Mr. Dalton's work."
Ann was genuinely surprised.
"Wow, really? That gentleman is a painter."
"I guess so. He uses colors really well. I didn't know he could paint this well."
"But where is this?"
"Whitefield. Mr. Dalton's Estate."
To give a lady a landscape painting of his Estate. The intention was clear. He must want to show the woman he likes where he lives. He might also want to tempt her by saying that she can live here if she accepts his proposal.
Ann smiled secretly, seeing through the seemingly elegant gentleman's intentions.
But did our mistress notice this? Ann glanced at Miss Pendleton's profile. The recipient was just looking at the painting with an inscrutable, calm expression.
"Ann, have Leon hang this in the drawing room."
"Where should I put it?"
"On the jade side table."
"In the most prominent space in the drawing room?"
"Mr. Dalton drew it himself, so of course it should be hung in a place that suits it."
"Yes, Miss."
Ann answered obediently, left the room, and hung the painting in the drawing room.
That evening, Ann knocked on her mistress's room to do Miss Pendleton's hair and entered. Miss Pendleton was standing looking out the window. Miss Pendleton was holding a letter in her hand.
When Ann entered, Miss Pendleton went to sit at the dressing table. Ann went behind Miss Pendleton, untied her hair, brushed it, and looked at Miss Pendleton's face in the mirror.
Miss Pendleton was lost in thought with a sunken face and lowered eyes. Ann's gaze naturally turned to the letter on the dressing table.
Ann was dying to know what letter she had received. After the mistress returned from the picnic a week ago with a cloudy face, she had been holed up, not receiving guests.
She said she had a cold from boating for too long, but in Ann's eyes, who had served Miss Pendleton for nearly ten years, Miss Pendleton was fine. She just didn't want to receive guests.
And the gentleman had been coming all week. The handsome young gentleman Ian Dalton, who had been frequenting the Pendleton residence for the past month.
