"Assuming that a woman will neglect her child if she starts working is very strange. Did Eva continue working after you two got married?" Asked Anne, curiously.
Lars nodded, "Of course! I've never felt negatively about her working even after we had Aphiya. I mean," he stroked his chin as he thought for a moment, "Sure, there were times when taking care of our daughter got in the way of our work, even with Mr. O'Blen's help, but things like that are always bound to happen. Eva's gender had nothing to do with it and I used to run into those issues constantly after her death which is why I hired Mairey."
"Ah," said the woman as she nodded her head slightly, "I see." She rested one hand against her face and used the other hand to hold the elbow of the opposite arm while she looked to the side for a moment, seeming to be in deep thought.
"What are you thinking?" Asked the man, curiously.
"Oh," she looked at him, "I recently started reading books by this one woman named Jane Austen. Have you ever heard of her?"
"I have," he nodded, "When Eva was still alive, she really enjoyed reading Austen's books. Her favorite one was 'Emma'."
"That is a great book but my favorites are 'Mansfield Park' and 'Persuasion'. To be honest, I mainly like the second one because the main character has the same name as me. 'Mansfield Park' is much more fascinating in my opinion."
"That's also Mairey's favorite book by Jane Austen," said Lars, "She told me it's one of the best modern stories she's ever read and highly recommends that I read it as well."
"You know," Anne began as she rubbed her chin with the side of her index finger, "You seem to talk about her quite a lot despite the fact that she is just your sitter."
"I mean," the man looked down for a bit and ran his fingers through his neatly combed hair, "She's not just my daughter's sitter. In fact, Mairey is also my good friend and I don't know what I would do without her." He smiled sheepishly.
"I see," one corner of her mouth perked up a bit, "Anyways, the reason why I brought that up is because I wanted to tell you about my new hobby."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow as he faced her.
"Basically I-" she paused for a moment as she remembered something. She turned her head to look at the clock hanging on the wall across from the two of them. "Looks like it's time for tea," she faced Lars again, "I made watercress sandwiches. Would you like some?"
The man nodded, "Sure!" The two of them got up and Anne led Lars into the dinning room. The man took a seat at the table as the woman entered the kitchen. A few seconds later, she came out with a large, porcelain plate full of small sandwiches in one hand and a metal tray in the other. The tray consisted of two white teacups, a porcelain teapot, two saucers, a tiny pitcher of sugar, a tiny pitcher of milk, a folded stack of white napkins, two small plates and two teaspoons. She approached the table and placed the two items down on the table. She placed the teapot and plate on top of two small, white lace doilies which contrasted against the walnut wood table. She placed one of the teacups, with a saucer underneath, in front of Lars and picked up the teapot. She poured some of the fragrant, brown liquid into the cup before setting it back down on the table.
"Cream and sugar?" Asked Anne.
"Yes, but you don't have to do that for me," said Lars, "I prefer doing that myself but thank you very much." Anne passed the two, tiny pitchers over to him before she sat down in the seat adjacent to him. He added lots of sugar and poured a lot of milk in his tea, causing it to change from mocha brown to cornsilk beige. He then stirred his tea with one of the tiny spoons before grabbing one of the small plates. He looked over at the large plate full of food. The plate contained numerous little, triangularly cut sandwiches made with white bread and had watercress leaves sticking out of the sides. Lars grabbed a couple of the crustless sandwiches and placed them on his plate. He looked over at Anne.
"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked.
The woman shook her head, "Not until everyone else eats first. I'll have some food after the girls eat as well."
"Oh," he scratched his chin and looked at her in confusion, "How come?"
"That's just how it works in our home," she sighed, "First, the man of the house eats. Next, the kids and the woman must eat last."
"That doesn't sound fair, to be honest."
"You're right, however," she looked down for a moment, "I must obey my husband's rules on how the family dynamic must be."
"I'm sorry, Anne." Said Lars frowned as he placed his hand on the woman's shoulder.
She looked up at him and gave him a sad smile, "Thank you, Lars."
"You can have a few sandwiches if you want, your husband won't know about that."
"You're right." The woman chuckled. She reached over and grabbed a handful of food from the large plate before placing it on her smaller plate.
"So what was this new hobby of yours that you wanted to tell me about?"
"Yes, that!" Said Anne as she poured herself some tea with cream and sugar, "I was going to say that Jane Austen's books have inspired me to start painting."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his tea, feeling satisfied at how very sweet his tea was.
"I can show you my paintings after tea if you'd like."
"Sounds good to me!" The man smiled.
After their daughters came downstairs to grab food and then left to go play some more, Anne led Lars over to one of the rooms in her home. Once they entered through the door, Lars noticed that this room looked very different from the rest of the rooms in the house. The walls were dark amber and the wooden floor was made from mahogany. The room was filled with easels, canvases, brushes, and containers of various different shades of paint along with a closet that was full of dirty smocks. Anne walked over and pointed to one of her paintings which was on a large canvas. The image portrayed a fair-skinned, blonde woman sitting on a wooden chair in a maroon red room and was looking out the window on a cloudy, dreary day. The woman was wearing a long, plain, powder blue dress without any jewelry. She was hunched over and seemed to be in mourning.
"This," said Anne, "Is my proudest piece."
Lars stared at the image in awe, "This is beautiful!"
"You really think so?" The woman rubbed the back of her head and looked down, blushing slightly.
"Of course!" He faced her and smiled, "Anne, you're so talented. You should sell these."
She looked up at him and gasped in surprise, "Really? Someone would be willing to buy my art?"
"Mhm!" He nodded, "You can take this to the local art auction. There are plenty of wealthy folk in your area who would love a piece like this hanging in their libraries."
"Oh," she looked down, "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Oh?" Lars looked at her in curiosity, "Does your husband know about this?"
"Yes, but he says it's best if I don't sell these."
"How come?" He raised an eyebrow.
"When I told him about my favorite author, he claimed that a true lady does not write novels since the arts are for men."
"Wait a minute," Lars scratched his head in confusion, "Doesn't Della have a watercolor kit?"
"She does, however, Frank believes that she will grow out of it once she's older and learns how to be a proper woman."
"Oh dear. How do you deal with someone like that?"
"I mean," Anne rubbed the back of her neck and looked down in embarrassment, "I can only stand him after I remember that he is the only son of a wealthy aristocrat and that he was the only man who was willing to marry a low class green person such as myself."
"Tsk tsk tsk," Lars shook his head, "I cannot imagine what it is like to be you."
The woman sighed and looked up at him, "I know, I know. I'm a terrible person for using Frank for his money but it was either this or working as a spinstress and living in a dank apartment in the sketchy part of Birmingham."
Lars looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose, "It's not like you can just dress up as a man and go to the auction while using a male pseudonym."
Anne gasped in surprise as she realized something, "That's a great idea!"
"Wait what?" He looked at her in confusion.
"I'll do exactly that. Thank you so much, Lars!" She hugged him tightly in joy.
Lars just stood there, still unsure about what had just happened. "You're welcome?"