Be polite; don't inquire further.

Best not to ask, Rebecca decides firmly. "It's good of you to take in the girl after her family's misfortune," she says to Twilwell. "My own father has taken in a ward servant in similar circumstances, the daughter of a cobbler in town. I sympathize." What her sister's been doing with that servant, she'd rather not say.

"Ella's no trouble at all. Are you, Ella?" He asks with a smile. Ella nods, barely perceptibly. She seems quite subdued; she hasn't lifted her gaze from the floor since they entered. Rebecca feels another twinge of perverse curiosity, but Twilwell just continues on with his tour. After admiring his collection of books (much larger than Lord Withington's), Rebecca follows him back to the front door of the house.

"You truly have done a wonderful job improving this house already, Mr. Twilwell," she remarks. "And I hope that we'll be able to enjoy your company in town and here at your home soon?"

"Of course!" he exclaims. "I wouldn't dream of taking up residence here and not becoming part of the region's happy life. Once I'm fully staffed, I hope to host a ball as soon as I may."

"I'll look forward to that," Rebecca tells him with a smile. As they emerge onto the front steps, though, her smile is arrested by a discomfiting sight, and a shrill voice.

"My goodness! Miss Foxhaven! I never would have expected to see you here." Rebecca groans inwardly as she sees two familiar faces standing at the bottom of the stairs: a rotund woman wearing more jewelry than is really tasteful, and a rail-thin, emaciated looking man in somber clothing.

"Mrs. Wagaton. Mr. Wagaton," she says grimly. Then, realizing it falls to her to make introductions: "Er - Mr. Twilwell, may I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Wagaton. Mr. Wagaton owns a number of businesses in town."

"The finest businesses in town!" Mrs. Wagaton declares, stomping her way heavily up the steps. Twilwell looks rather taken aback by this forward couple who have deposited themselves (quite literally) on his doorstep. "We do import-export, ironmongery, and a bit of lending, sir. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." She holds out her hand, which Twilwell (gentleman that he is) takes and gives a gentle, formal kiss. She continues: "But I am surprised to see you here, Miss Foxhaven! We'd thought to be the first to call upon our new neighbor Mr. Twilwell. You are he, I presume?" she asks suddenly, narrowing her eyes as thought suspicious that Twilwell might be an exceptionally well-dressed intruder.

"Ah - yes, I'm he," Twilwell says with bemusement. Mr. Wagaton, having followed his wife more sedately up the stairs, gives a stiff bow and holds his hand out to Mr. Twilwell, who shakes it hesitantly.

"Delighted to meet you, sir," Mrs. Wagaton continues. "We have so much to discuss with you! But Miss Foxhaven - are you a relation of Mr. Twilwell's?"

"No, ma'am, I'm not," Rebecca says coolly, trying to project disdain. "I was merely doing as you were. Paying a visit to a new neighbor."

"Hm!" Mrs. Wagaton's eyes dart back and forth between Rebecca and Mr. Twilwell. "And without a chaperone! Well, well, I know you well, you're a fine patron; I'm sure no harm can come of it. All the same, you'd best be off now, my dear."

"Of course," Rebecca says, struggling to conceal her irritation. Turning to Mr. Twilwell, she drops him a brief curtsey. "I hope that I will see you again, sir."

He returns her a bow and a smile. "I'm sure we will meet again, Miss Foxhaven. Thank you very much for welcoming me to the neighborhood."

As Rebecca mounts her trap and the driver pulls away, she can hear the Wagatons (mostly Mrs. Wagaton) beginning to talk Mr. Twilwell's ear off again, no doubt hoping to get him to join them in one of their various questionable business ventures. But she clucks her tongue in annoyance, for Mrs. Wagaton is a notorious gossip - by the day after tomorrow, the news that she was in Mr. Twilwell's home unchaperoned will be all over the county. Ah, well. Everyone knows that Mrs. Wagaton's stories are exaggerated, anyway. What harm could it do?

***

Back at Wimbly Place, Alice flounces into the sitting room.

"I'm boooooooooored," she declares to no one in particular. Looking around, she sees that her mother and Esther are sitting here, Esther reading, and her mother - Mary Foxhaven - working on some needlepoint. "Mama, may I go into town to shop for some ribbons?"

Mary Foxhaven is a thin, nervous woman, and she looks startled by the very question. "Oh - well - I suppose you may, dear. But do take one of your sisters with you, will you?"

"Not I," Esther says hurriedly. "I wish to finish my reading."

Alice rolls her eyes. "As though I'd ask you," she says derisively. "You're such a bore. Don't worry, mama. I'll ask..."