Felix bent down and carefully examined Elizabeth's face.
"She is the princess of the Argyle family, and her feet should not be stained with dirt. I will protect her from the storms outside, and Finn will shield her from them in the future. She only needs to stay here and enjoy the best of everything."
Finn nodded vigorously beside her.
"That's right, I'll stop the bad guys, Dad!"
Felix straightened up and laughed out loud.
This is a smile he would never show in that chaotic scene on Wall Street.
Pure, relaxing, and even with a touch of unguarded warmth.
"Let's go, Finn." Felix clapped his hands.
"Go to my study. The new machine I brought back is much more interesting than this Golden Cradle."
The study in the west wing of the main building.
The walls here are covered by floor-to-ceiling walnut bookshelves, the books exuding the mixed scent of paper and ink. Huge, arched French windows face the oak grove behind the estate.
On the desk sits a strangely shaped mechanical device.
A brass horn-shaped amplifier is connected to a metal tonearm, with a tiny steel needle protruding from the end of the tonearm.
Below the steel needle is a brass cylinder driven by a hand crank, the surface of which is tightly wrapped with a layer of flat tin foil.
Catherine lifted her skirt as she entered the study, her eyes immediately drawn to the machine.
"Is this the... talking machine you mentioned?"
Catherine walked around the desk, carefully examining the exposed gears and drive shafts.
"I thought it was just a gimmick used by the newspapers to hype up General Electric stock; it looked like a combination of a sewing machine and a horn."
"The description in the newspapers is too conservative."
Felix pulled out a chair, gesturing for Catherine to sit down.
"This is called a phonograph, a prototype made by Edison from the acoustics department. Sholes ' team just solved the instability problem of the mechanical transmission. This is the first finished product that can be taken out of the lab."
Finn leaned over the edge of the desk, curiously reaching out his finger to fiddle with the brass horn.
"Hey, don't touch that needle, kid."
Felix held his son's wrist and patted it gently.
"It is very sharp, and extremely fragile."
Then walk to the back of the machine and grasp the hand crank.
"The principle behind it is not complicated. Sound waves vibrate when they travel through the air. When you speak into this speaker, the diaphragm at the bottom causes the steel needle to vibrate. By rotating the cylinder, the steel needle will engrave grooves of varying depths on the tin foil."
Felix took out a blank piece of parchment and handed it to Catherine.
"Read a passage, anything will do. Give it a try."
Catherine took the parchment.
That was a transcript of a congressional debate that Felix had brought back yesterday. She shook her head and placed it on the table.
"Come on, I don't want to stay home reading those boring political documents." She thought for a moment, "I'll read a poem instead, one by Tennyson."
Felix reset the probes on the machine to the starting edge of the cylinder.
"Whatever you like, just remember to bring your mouth close to the speaker. Keep the speed constant and the volume loud."
Felix began to rotate the crank at a constant speed.
The cylinder rotates slowly, and the steel needle comes into contact with the tin foil, making a slight "rustling" sound.
Catherine moved closer to the brass horn.
"The cannons are on their right."
The cannons are on their left.
The cannons were directly in front of them.
A salvo with a deafening roar;
Shells and shrapnel rained down.
In that valley of death…
(Excerpt from "The Charge of the Light Cavalry")
After she finished reading that short passage, she straightened up.
Felix stopped turning the crank.
Then the probe was lifted, the cylinder was returned to its original position, and a slightly blunter playback needle was replaced.
"Now, witness a miracle."
Felix turned the crank again.
The room was so quiet that the only sound was the grinding of gears.
First, a piercing, grating noise emanated from the speakers. Then, a sharp, distorted sound with a heavy metallic quality echoed in the study.
"...The cannons are on their right...The cannons are on their left..."
Finn was startled and took two steps back, hiding behind Catherine's skirt.
"Mom! There's something in that loudspeaker!"
Finn pointed at the gramophone, his eyes wide with surprise.
Catherine covered her mouth, her eyes filled with disbelief and shock.
Although her voice was severely distorted, sounding like someone being choked screaming, the tone and the pauses were definitely the voice she had just made.
The machine stopped turning.
"This...this is terrifying."
Catherine stared at the foil cylinder.
"It stole time, and my voice was frozen inside that metal can."
"It wasn't stolen, it was preserved."
Felix leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Perhaps you can put this cylinder in a safe. A hundred years from now, when our bones have turned to ash, our descendants can still hear the poem you recited today through this machine."
Felix looked at his son, who was hiding behind her skirt.
"Come out, little knight. Come over here and shout into the loudspeaker, leaving behind your voice from when you were four years old."
Finn mustered his courage and stepped forward, approaching the horn. Felix replaced the foil with a new one and began cranking the crank.
"I am Finn Argyle! I will be managing the bakery! " the little boy shouted into the loudspeaker.
When it was played back, the high-pitched child's voice, accompanied by low noise, made Catherine laugh out loud.
"This is amazing."
Catherine calmed herself, and the shrewdness of a businessman began to resurface in her mind.
"If you can mass-produce this machine, it will change a lot of things. For example, my charitable foundation."
"A charitable foundation?" Felix raised an eyebrow. "You want to tell stories to the children in the orphanage?"
"It's not just an orphanage."
Catherine walked to the bookshelf and began organizing several hardcover books about medicine.
" Doctors at Umbrella Hospital have to handwrite a lot of medical records and diagnostic reports every day. This takes up a lot of their time. If they could dictate the diagnoses and give them to the administrators to copy, their efficiency would double."
"And those blind, disabled veterans." Catherine turned around.
"They can't read newspapers. If they had access to recorded news bulletins, they could reconnect with the world. It's an excellent way to build social prestige."
Felix listened to Catherine's analysis and nodded approvingly.
"It seems that Umbrella Corporation is running very well under your management, and you have much more foresight than those idiots on Wall Street who only know how to look at financial statements."
Catherine walked back to her desk, her fingers tracing the brass base of the phonograph.
"Managing pharmaceutical companies and charitable foundations has shown me another side of this world, Felix. You're out there acquiring railroads and crushing rivals to build up hatred. And I'm quelling that hatred for you with affordable water purification tablets, free literacy schools, and orphanage beds."
She looked into her husband's eyes.
"I don't want you to be seen by the world as a pure tyrant. I hope that when our children grow up, people will feel not only fear, but also awe and gratitude when they hear the name ' Argyle '."
Felix stopped smiling.
Felix understood Catherine's intentions, which was a tacit understanding between them.
He was responsible for wielding the butcher's knife in the mud, while she was responsible for distributing bread in the church.
One plays the good cop, and the other plays the bad cop.
"What is the foundation's budget for next month?" Felix asked.
"The $150,000 will be primarily used to build two new schools for children of workers in Boston."
"Is that so? I'll have Hayes deposit 300,000 into the account."
Felix carefully removed the foil cylinder engraved with Catherine and Finn's voices and placed it into a velvet-lined wooden box.
"Build more hospitals, using steel produced by ourselves. In the future, all lighting will be provided by General Electric. Let the poor see that by depending on us, they can not only survive, but also live in the light."
Felix closed the wooden box lid and locked the latch.
"Let's go, the sun is shining. Let's call the coachman and go to the stables to see the new foals that have been delivered."
The stables at the back of the manor are a massive building constructed of a mix of red brick and solid wood.
The interior space is spacious, with a skylight for ventilation in the ceiling.
The ground was covered with dry hay, and the air was filled with the unique smells of horse manure, leather, and oats.
Stable supervisor Mr. Cobb is grooming the mane of a black Thoroughbred.
He was a thin Irishman with bowed legs, a result of years of horseback riding.
Upon seeing the Felix family enter, Cobb immediately put down the horse brush in his hand and took off his old baseball cap.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Argyle, Madam, Young Master Finn." Cobb bowed.
"The weather is perfect for a walk today."
"Bring out that Shetland pony, Cobb."
Felix took off his coat and handed it to the servant behind him.
" Finn needs to work on his balance."
Cobb strode quickly toward the innermost horse pen.
A moment later, he led out a small horse with brown and white fur, its size not much larger than a large dog. The horse was already fitted with a specially made miniature saddle.
Finn cheered and ran over.
"It's called 'Peanut,' right, Mr. Cobb?"
Finn happily touched the nose of the pony.
"Yes, Master Finn. It has a very gentle temperament."
Cobb lifted Finn by his armpits and placed him securely on the saddle.
"Step into the stirrups, keep your back straight. Hold the reins with both hands, but don't pull too hard."
Felix walked to the front of the horse and took the reins.
"Let's take a drive around the manor's circular driveway. Catherine, would you like to ride one?"
Catherine shook her head and declined the invitation.
"I'm wearing a corset and a long skirt, so it's not convenient for me to ride. I'll just walk beside you and watch."
The family walked out of the stable.
Although the winter sun lacks warmth, it still dispels some of the chill when it shines on you.
The ponies moved slowly along the gravel-paved driveway with tiny, deliberate steps.
Little Finn looked around excitedly from horseback.
Argyle Estate covers more than 500 acres. Neat rows of plane trees line the driveway.
Not far away, there was a large pasture enclosed by a wooden fence. Several glass greenhouses used to train winter vegetables gleamed in the sunlight.
"The chassis must be stable."
Felix led the horse while correcting his son's posture.
Although he rarely rode horses before, he frequently went hunting on horseback after the estate was built, so he could be considered a seasoned veteran.
"Grip the horse's belly with the inside of your thighs. Rise and fall with its gait, don't resist it, go with it."
Finn bit his lip, trying to adjust his posture.
"Dad, what if 'Peanut' suddenly starts running?"
"It won't run away, because I have the reins," Felix replied calmly.
"If one day you are riding a wild horse that no one is leading, make sure the whip in your hand is harder than its temper."
Catherine walked beside Felix, watching the father and son enjoy their outing together.
"Felix, your requirements are too high. Finn hasn't even learned the entire alphabet yet."
"He doesn't necessarily need to know all the letters, but he must know power."
Felix slowed his pace and pointed to the endless woods and lawns surrounding the manor.
" Catherine, look at this land. In Manhattan, every inch of it is stained with blood. But on Long Island, this is my safe haven. It is the blood that has brought me peace."
"But tranquility comes at a price and requires massive walls to protect it."
Felix stopped in his tracks.
The pony obediently stopped and lowered its head to nibble on the remaining dry grass by the roadside.
"Back in Washington, Grant reached a compromise with European capital. I bought the railroad, and Carnegie got the funding. A temporary balance was achieved."
Felix looked at the sentry post at the iron gate of the manor in the distance, where a dozen security guards equipped with rifles stood.
"You know, Old Morgan won't give up. He's throwing money at Carnegie, trying to cripple me in the steel industry. In the coming months, and even years, we'll be fighting tooth and nail over the price of every ton of steel in every city's bidding."
Catherine stepped forward and stood beside Felix.
" Umbrella Corporation has millions of dollars in readily available funds. If needed…"
"No need, we don't lack funds right now," Felix interrupted her.
"Besides, I haven't sunk so low as to use money from hospitals and orphanages to wage a price war. Keeping Umbrella clean is one of our fallback options."
He turned his head and looked at Catherine.
"I'm staying home today not to escape. It's to remind myself what I'm fighting for."
Felix reached out and put his arm around Catherine's shoulder.
"If I don't crush those rivals into the mud, if I don't firmly grasp America's economic lifeline, when we get old, when Finn and Elizabeth grow up, those I've defeated, those old European tycoons, will pounce on us like hungry wolves, tear our estates apart, and turn our children into their slaves."
"I will not let that happen."
The sun began to set.
The sea breeze from the Atlantic Ocean rustled through the treetops.
The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the white granite walls of the manor's main building a blood red.
Finn yawned on horseback and rubbed his eyes.
"Dad, I'm hungry."
Felix looked away and released his arm from his wife's.
"Okay, let's go back. We'll have roasted lamb chops for dinner."
He picked up the reins again, turned the horse around, and headed towards the main building.
"I need to go back to the Empire State Building first thing tomorrow morning. There are still a lot of things I need to take care of."
"I know, but before you leave, perhaps we should have a good talk about Finn's education. After all, Finn is already four years old, and it's time for him to start his education."
The restaurant's walls are paneled with dark walnut wood. A brass chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its carbon filament bulbs casting a constant glow that illuminates the twenty-foot-long oak dining table in every detail.
Elena, the middle-aged housekeeper, stood behind the dining table.
She wore a perfectly tailored black high-necked dress with a stiff white lace collar and cuffs. Her hair was neatly styled in a bun, without a single stray hair.
Elena took a silver pocket watch out of her apron pocket, glanced at the dial, and then made a gesture to the four maids standing in the corner.
Dinner started on time.
Maids filed in carrying sterling silver trays, on which were placed white porcelain plates bearing the family crest.
The first dish was clear beef broth.
Felix sat at the head of the table.
He changed out of his daytime tweed morning robe and into a dark velvet casual suit. Catherine sat opposite him. Five-year-old Finn sat in a raised dining chair to Felix's right.
Elena stepped forward and used her hands, gloved in white cotton, to remove the silver thermal cover from Finn's face.
Steam rises.
"Thank you, Elena."
Catherine picked up a napkin and placed it on her knees.
"It is my duty, madam."
Elena bowed slightly, her voice steady.
She took two steps back, returning to her position where she could oversee the entire situation.
Felix picked up the silver spoon, scooped up a mouthful of clear soup, and put it in his mouth.
"Did they change the spice supplier for the kitchen?"
Felix put down his spoon and looked at Elena.
"Yes, sir," Elena replied.
"Last week, the Metropolitan Trading Company sent a batch of white pepper from Ceylon. The head chef believes that this type of pepper is less spicy and more suitable for the young master's stomach."
Felix nodded without saying anything more.
Finn, standing nearby, grabbed a spoon and stirred vigorously in the porcelain dish. The soup splashed over the edge, landing on the snow-white Ireland linen tablecloth, forming several oily spots.
"Bang."
Finn tapped the edge of the plate with her spoon, making a crisp sound.
"Finn".
Catherine put down her cutlery and looked at her son.
"Stop banging; that's not what cutlery is for."
Finn stopped what she was doing, but pouted.
"Mom, this soup has no flavor. I want to eat roast meat. Uncle Rambo took me to the camp yesterday to roast venison, and it had lots of salt on it."
Felix picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.
" Rambo is a warrior, and warriors need salt to maintain their strength in the wild," Felix said, looking at his son.
"But now you're sitting at the Argyle Family table. Here, you have to follow the dining etiquette. Finish your soup, and the roast lamb chops will be the second course."
Finn reluctantly picked up the spoon and swallowed it in large gulps.
Catherine frowned slightly as she watched her son's actions. Then she looked at Felix.
"Felix, look at the way he holds the spoon. His whole hand is gripping the handle like he's holding a dagger. He's been spending too much time with those security guards in the stables and shooting range."
Felix leaned back in his chair.
The maid stepped forward to remove the soup dish and replace it with the main course.
"It's nothing, he needs a strong physique."
Felix watched as the maid placed the sliced roasted lamb chops in front of him.
"If he can't even ride a horse steadily, how will he manage those unruly factory managers in the future?"
"Being strong is one thing, being well-mannered is another."
Catherine picked up her knife and fork and cut the lamb chop.
"He'll be five next month. In Boston, boys his age are already learning the Latin alphabet and basic arithmetic. Our son, on the other hand, currently knows mostly the swear words from the security team."
Finn is grabbing a piece of lamb with the bone in her hand, ready to take a bite.
"lay down."
Felix's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.
Finn's hand froze in mid-air.
He looked into his father's eyes, slowly put the mutton back on the plate, and picked up the pure silver knife and fork beside him.
Although his movements were clumsy, he began to try cutting.
"You're right, Catherine."
Felix looked away.
"Five years old is a boundary; he can no longer run around the manor. The heir to the Argyle family must have something in his mind that is more deadly than the gun in his hand."
"So I plan to select a few tutors for him."
Catherine put a piece of cut lamb into her mouth.
"I wrote to a few acquaintances in Boston, and they recommended several candidates who had previously served as lecturers at Harvard."
Felix shook his head.
"Harvard lecturers? Those bookworms who just read from the textbook and discuss theology and ancient philosophy? That won't do."
Why not?
Catherine put down her knife and fork, looking puzzled.
"Those people understand rhetoric and know how to give a speech in a respectable salon. These are the keys to entering high society."
"But high society is built with money and power, not rhetoric."
Felix cut off a piece of meat, chewed it, and swallowed it.
"What I want him to learn is not how to pander to those old nobles, but how to manage them."
Felix looked at the butler standing to the side.
" Elena ".
"Sir." Elena stepped forward.
"How's the personnel roster I asked you to compile last week coming along?"
"It's all done, sir."
Elena clasped her hands together in front of her.
"As per your request, I screened out all applicants with a pastoral background and those who only taught literature. I kept nine files. They're all in the safe in my study."
Catherine looked at Felix.
"You asked the housekeeper to screen the list of tutors?"
" Elena's eye for talent is far sharper than that of those university presidents," Felix said, raising her glass of red wine.
"Before coming to our house, she had served in the British court. She knew exactly what kind of teacher could produce doers and what kind of teacher would only produce useless people."
Felix took a sip of red wine.
"Most importantly, the Argyle Family doesn't need outsiders to interfere. Everyone who teaches Finn must sign an extremely strict confidentiality agreement. They are not only teachers, but also future employees of the family's Executive Committee. Therefore, their backgrounds must withstand scrutiny from the intelligence department."
Dinner continued with the soft clinking of cutlery against plates.
Finn struggled with the lamb chop, sweat beading on his forehead.
"After you finish this meal, Finn," Felix said, looking at his son. "Your carefree days are over. Get ready for your textbooks."