Ramsiwick let out a sigh of relief. But soon his face fell.

“Why does the master never tell me about such important matters? If a lady who might soon become the mistress of this estate is coming, I could have cleaned even more thoroughly and shown off at least a dozen more rooms that we pride ourselves on as the most beautiful in this house.”

“Hmm, it feels like he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to make a fuss. Besides, you’re too honest to lie, aren’t you? Just pretend you didn’t hear me. By the way, when will the meeting with the lawyer be over?”

“It’s almost finished, miss.”

Olivia clicked her tongue.

“He specifically instructed me to bring the teacher today, so why is he working at this exact time?”

“Is it a confirmed appointment?”

“Absolutely. That’s why Mother and I racked our brains to bring the teacher here.”

“It must be an unavoidable meeting. Lately, the lawyer and the estate manager have been visiting often. They talk for hours before leaving.”

“What about?”

“I don’t know, miss. Business matters, perhaps?”

Uninterested in business, Olivia turned to look at the teacher. The teacher was so engrossed in a book that they seemed to have forgotten our presence entirely.

“By the way, did the teacher like Whitefield Hall?”

“Yes. They seemed particularly impressed by the paintings in the Long Gallery. It looks like they have an eye for art.”

Olivia’s shoulders puffed up with pride.

“Of course. They were educated at the finest girls’ school since childhood. Plus, they’ve been a lady in London society for twelve years. It’s only natural they have refined taste.”

Ramsiwick was surprised.

“Goodness, why would someone like that become a governess?”

Olivia let out a groan and sighed.

“You’d shed buckets of tears if you heard the story.”

Ramsiwick looked at Olivia with curious eyes. Olivia gestured to him again. When Ramsiwick leaned in, Olivia began whispering.

Meanwhile, Laura, who had been so absorbed in a book that she forgot the presence of the other two, closed the book she held with a flutter of excitement. It was Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan. She had read it in her girls’ school days at the headmistress’s recommendation, and seeing it again after more than a decade brought back fond memories.

‘I’ll have to read it slowly when I get home.’

She hugged the book with both arms and strolled slowly in front of the bookshelves.

Dunville Park had a library too, but it held few books, and their condition was poor. Pages were falling out, covers were detached, and some even had mold. Even when Laura found a book she wanted to read, she hesitated to open it for fear of damaging it further.

She wandered around, looking for books Olivia needed. Astonishingly, among tens of thousands of books, she found what she needed in less than five minutes. The books were systematically organized by subject and author’s name.

The condition of the opened books was excellent. Though the pages of older books had yellowed, they were spotless, without a speck of dust. It was clear the servants meticulously maintained them.

Collecting so many books must be difficult, but keeping them so pristine was no small feat. As a book lover, Laura felt boundless respect for the Dalton ancestors who amassed this collection and for Mr. Dalton, who kept them so well-maintained.

Like strolling through a garden, Laura walked along the shelves and picked out two or three books. Goethe’s Faust in the original and Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park.

Having chosen her books, Laura approached Olivia again.

Ramsiwick and Olivia were deep in conversation, heads together. They stopped talking as soon as they heard Laura’s footsteps. Ramsiwick, ever courteous, pulled out a chair for Laura and served her tea in a rose-patterned teacup.

Ramsiwick left the library to check on the preparations for the guests’ dinner.

Sipping her tea, Laura showed Olivia the books she had found. Olivia was curious not only about the books she needed but also about the ones Laura had chosen for herself. Laura gladly showed her.

“Leviathan? I’ve never heard of this book. Hmm, is this Italian…? Mansfield Park? A Jane Austen novel?”

“That’s right. Among novelists, I love Jane Austen the most.”

“I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, but I didn’t care for her others. Persuasion was boring, and I couldn’t even finish Mansfield Park. I prefer novels like Jane Eyre or Tess of the d’Urbervilles.”

“Persuasion feels different when you read it as an adult. But I think Mansfield Park will feel the same to you even when you’re older. Still, it’s my favorite of Austen’s novels.”

Olivia stared at the leather-bound Mansfield Park. Her teacher’s favorite novel by her favorite author. She felt compelled to reread it, sensing there might be something special she hadn’t noticed.

“Teacher, at Dunville Park, this…”

“Ladies, are you enjoying yourselves?”

Both ladies turned toward the library entrance.

There stood Ian Dalton, the owner of this library, this estate, and every single white birch tree they had passed.

He wore a navy suit with a tie. His jet-black eyes, like the dark knots of Whitefield’s birch trees, gazed softly at the ladies, his smile more beautiful than any painting in the Long Gallery.

He strode toward the ladies. They smiled at the welcome arrival and curtsied lightly before him.

“Miss Pendleton, inviting you felt harder than turning coal into obsidian.”

“Mrs. Fairfax said she couldn’t send her daughter alone.”

“So my sister and Olivia fulfilled my wish.”

Mr. Dalton spoke lightly and smiled warmly at Olivia.

“It’s good to see you at Whitefield after so long, Olivia. Is your mother well?”

“Yes, she’s well. Oh, but we’ve been using more firewood for the hearth.”

“It’ll get colder soon, so that’s concerning.”

He muttered quietly and glanced at the desk.

“I’m curious about the books the ladies have chosen.”

Laura showed him the books. Ian, smiling faintly as he looked over her selections, raised an eyebrow when he saw Mansfield Park.

“Is this for Olivia?”

“No, it’s for me.”

“You won’t be offended if I strongly discourage it, will you?”

“I won’t be offended, but I’m curious why you’d discourage it.”

“Because it’s the most boring of Austen’s novels. Something upsetting must have happened to Austen when she wrote it. Otherwise, the talent that wrote Emma couldn’t have produced this.”

Laura burst out laughing, while Olivia grew pensive.

“Uncle, that novel…”

Olivia tried to stop her uncle’s blunt remarks, worried about offending Laura. But Laura quietly restrained her.

“So that’s Mr. Dalton’s view on Mansfield Park. I haven’t read any of Austen’s novels yet, so would you recommend another?”

Mr. Dalton rubbed his chin, thinking, then shook his head.

“That’s tough. Her protagonists are all foolish, and the endings are predictable. Still, Persuasion is decent.”

“So, Persuasion is the least bad of Austen’s novels.”

“Yes. Anne Elliot is the most mature protagonist Austen created. The rest are all silly and dull…”

“Uncle!”

Unable to hold back, Olivia cut him off. He looked at his niece, puzzled. Olivia quickly explained the situation.

Mr. Dalton’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Miss Pendleton, I apologize. Please forgive me.”

Laura, her face full of amusement, shook her head.

“I’m the one who misled you, so why are you apologizing? I didn’t say anything because I wanted to hear your honest opinion, praise or criticism. Please, tell me why you dislike Austen’s protagonists so much. I really want to know.”

Mr. Dalton frowned but smiled.

“Sometimes, Miss Pendleton, you catch people off guard. Very well, since my views on Austen are out, I’ll speak freely. But first, let’s eat. It’s time for lunch.”

The three ladies and gentlemen headed to the dining room.

The dining room at Whitefield Hall gleamed like freshly polished porcelain. A ten-person dining table, covered with a white cloth, sparkled with silver cutlery, and white porcelain vases filled with fresh summer flowers exuded a vibrant fragrance. Large windows opened to reveal the beautiful Whitefield landscape beyond.

As the three sat at the table, food was served one by one. Hot mushroom soup and cold salad. Pheasant, flounder, game pie, rice pudding.

Having wandered Whitefield Hall, Laura was famished and found the food delightful. While Mr. Dalton asked Olivia about the Dunville Park family, Laura ate heartily without reservation.

As she savored the food, Laura realized Whitefield’s cook was highly skilled. The sauces were refined, and the cooking was perfectly done.

“Miss Pendleton, is the food to your liking?”

Having heard all about the Fairfax family, from her brother-in-law’s back pain in the rain to little Ian’s toddling progress, Mr. Dalton finally turned his attention to Laura.