In deep autumn, New York was also rainy. Looking out the carriage window past the Brooklyn Bridge, a white mist hung over the East River, making the dark water appear murky and black.
Jenny sat in the carriage wearing a high-waisted long coat of velvet trimmed with sea otter fur, over a champagne-colored bustle evening gown. In this era, most women preferred light colors for formal upper-class dinners and balls, perhaps because they looked better under the dim candlelight.
Today was supposed to be Saturday, but she still had to work this kind of overtime. Her mood was lazy and carefree, and she lay by the window, watching the scenery.
The drive from Manhattan to the North Shore of Long Island took the entire morning. Along the way, Jenny saw vast natural green forests and some estates hidden among them—this was the closest she had been to nature since leaving her hometown.
Near the most prime beach area of the North Shore, a massive, imposing neoclassical building came into view. It was shaped like a hollow square, set on flat grassland, shrouded in mist, looking mysterious and magnificent, like a palace.
Built over a decade ago, it was the second-generation mansion of the Dawling family, begun after the current senior partner, Mr. Dawling, married Zweit's mother.
Jenny had heard from the butler that the first-generation mansion, built by the grandparents' generation, was located in Albany, the capital of New York State, and now only housed a few elderly relatives.
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