“Excessive kindness, isn’t it?”

“It’s only natural. If someone is precious to him, they’re precious to me too. If he loves them, I love them too. If they’re his child, they’re my child as well.”

“You really love my uncle, don’t you?”

“More than myself. All my blood and flesh belong to him.”

“…Aunt.”

“Yes?”

“If we are to live like mother and son, isn’t there something we shouldn’t just brush aside?”

“…”

Laura realized he was referring to their first meeting under the maple tree. If possible, it was an incident she would rather bury and live on from. Considering their relationship, it was an embarrassing mishap for both of them.

But, as Henry said, if they were to grow close like mother and son, they would need to address it properly and move forward.

Henry let out a small sigh.

“When we first met in front of the maple tree, I never imagined you were Mrs. Dalton, Aunt. How could I? I knew you were around the same age as my uncle, and the translation of Nouvelle Héloïse he sent me before was smoother and more accurate than any English translation I’d ever read. In my mind, I pictured an intellectual, mature middle-aged woman. Not the young lady standing on tiptoes to break a branch under the maple tree.”

“…”

“It was the same when we faced each other. You looked no older than twenty-two at most. So, I couldn’t hide my instincts as an unmarried man and made a foolish move. When my uncle appeared and I realized the lady before me was my aunt, I was so ashamed I wanted to die. I thought I’d never be able to face him comfortably again.”

Henry paused. They stood facing each other under the sunlight.

“I never thought you’d forgive me, Aunt. Let alone take me as a son. I… I thought you’d despise me.”

“Despise you? It was an awkward incident, yes, but it’s impossible for a thirty-one-year-old woman to truly despise a man who mistook her for a twenty-two-year-old girl.”

Henry gave a faint smile at Laura’s jest.

“Thank you for embracing me with such generosity. Thanks to you, I’ve restored my relationship with my uncle. And I’ve gained a wonderful mother, too. I look forward to our future together.”

“I look forward to it too, Henry.”

Laura extended her hand for a handshake. But instead, Henry took her hand and kissed the back of it.

For a moment, Laura suspected his intentions, but she quickly concluded it was a ceremonial gesture and withdrew her hand.

They began walking toward the lake again.

“I’m sorry for nagging right after we’ve established this mother-son bond, Henry, but your mother is looking for you. Why don’t you go see her?”

“I do visit every day, Aunt. I just don’t stay for long conversations.”

“Since you’ve been apart for so long, she must have a lot to say.”

“Most of it is scolding directed at me.”

Henry replied in a subdued voice.

“Does the reality of being the eldest son weigh heavily on your shoulders, Henry?”

He responded in a surprised tone.

“How did you know, Aunt?”

“I live with an eldest son myself.”

Laura smiled sadly.

“Your uncle inherited the Dalton family during a time of hardship and fought tooth and nail to protect it. He must have given up and sacrificed a lot. He inherited everything as the eldest son’s privilege, but he had to protect it all alone. I think the path of an eldest son is one of abundance but also loneliness.”

“…”

“That path lies before you, too. It’s natural to hesitate in front of it. But if you close your ears to avoid hearing words of concern, you won’t hear the voices cheering you on either.”

They reached the lake. Henry gazed at the autumn lake, gleaming coldly and clearly like ice.

“When I was a child, my uncle taught me how to skip stones here.”

“He said he learned it here from your father.”

“So, my father passed it on to me through my uncle. Without him, I probably wouldn’t know how to skip stones. My father was bedridden until I entered public school.”

Henry picked up a pebble from the ground and tossed it up and down in his palm.

“I hardly did it in Paris.”

He leaned forward and swung his arm widely, skimming the pebble across the water.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

The pebble skipped across the surface.

“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen…”

At fifteen, the pebble sank beneath the lake.

“I’m definitely rusty. Don’t tell my uncle. He’ll scold me for slacking on practice.”

“Take lessons from him again. He’s still the Yorkshire champion.”

“Unrivaled. I don’t know why there’s no stone-skipping category in the Olympics. He’d win gold.”

“The national team would pick someone else.”

“Someone who skips stones better than my uncle?”

“Yes. A clever and brave London girl. She’s not in England now, though.”

“I’d love to meet her. Did she go abroad?”

“They say she’s in a small country at the edge of Asia. She’s writing a novel set there.”

“What a remarkable lady. Well, a woman who skips stones better than my uncle wouldn’t be an ordinary lady.”

“She certainly isn’t ordinary. Oh, I miss her, Miss Hyde.”

At that moment, a cry of “Auuuunt!” came from the forest. Turning, they saw George running across the field toward Laura, spilling something from both pockets. A long trail followed the child, like the breadcrumbs left by Hansel and Gretel.

Laura shouted.

“George! The stones in your pockets! The stones!”

George looked back, felt both trouser pockets, and clutched his head. Then he began picking up the spilled stones one by one.

“Such a clumsy fool.”

Henry clicked his tongue and strode toward George. He started helping the boy pick up the stones.

Laura smiled alone. The sight of the two brothers was endearing and charming.

After collecting all the stones, they held hands and walked to the lake. George, forgetting his earlier struggle, bounced with excitement, while Henry chattered incessantly at his younger brother.

As they approached, Henry’s voice became clearer.

“…What if it had been money in your pockets, you careless rascal? You’re ten now; you should be calmer than when you were nine. If you act like this at public school, you’ll get thrashed by the prefects and seniors. Do you like getting thrashed? Huh? Do you?”

“I don’t like it~ Not as much as I don’t like your nagging, Henry~”

George sang, hopping around. Henry gave him a light tap on the head. George rubbed his crown, then spotted his aunt. He shook off his brother’s hand and rushed to Laura, hugging her waist tightly.

“Aunt! I brought all the stones you asked for! Flat ones, good for skipping!”

“Oh, you worked hard, George. Well done!”

Laura ruffled George’s hair vigorously. Henry, now closer, looked down at George with a pitying gaze.

“He’s going to have a rough time at public school, that foolish boy.”

“Don’t call him foolish. He’s a kind and spirited child.”

Laura spread out the stones George brought on her palm, praising him for choosing well as she examined each one. George, thrilled, hopped around Laura, singing as if performing a tribal ritual.

“Henry, why don’t you join us for stone-skipping? With all these stones, we won’t finish until the stars come out.”

Henry smiled and shook his head.

“I’ll head back to the house now.”

“Home?”

“Mother’s looking for me, so I should go see her.”

Laura beamed with a proud expression. Henry slightly furrowed his brow.

The aunt before him was too young to claim the role of mother. And far too beautiful. Under the maple tree, the pure and gentle femininity that made him mistake her for a chrysanthemum spirit still dazzled him.

He gave a wry smile and turned toward the manor.

On a clear, crisp October afternoon, five or six boys were walking along a deep stream winding through the Whitefield Forest.

Each with a healthy, tanned face, they carried fishing rods in one hand and strings of trout slung over the other shoulder. Their spoils from stream fishing were as thick and sturdy as a blacksmith’s forearm.

“Huh?”

As they exchanged jokes and headed downstream, one boy stopped in his tracks.

“Guys, look over there.”

“What’s there?”

“It’s Mr. Dalton.”

“What? Mr. Dalton?”

The boys’ gazes turned in the direction their friend pointed.

It was indeed Mr. Dalton. He sat on a rock across from them, casting a fishing rod. The boys exchanged surprised glances.

They knew Mr. Dalton well. They saw him every Sunday at church. But today’s Mr. Dalton was different from the man they knew. Instead of his usual impeccable three-piece suit with vest and gentleman’s hat, he wore only a gray striped shirt and an old hunting coat.

Beside him sat a young man. The boys’ eyes widened. Even from a distance, his face seemed to radiate beauty.

“Who’s the man with him?”

“No idea, but my sister would fall head over heels for someone that handsome.”

“Still, he’s not as great as Mr. Dalton.”

“Of course not. No man is as splendid as Mr. Dalton.”

The boys called out to Mr. Dalton. He turned from his conversation with the man beside him and looked across. The boys doffed their flat caps in unison and bowed.

A smile spread across Mr. Dalton’s face.