Go inside.

"I'd be happy to see the inside of the Manor, Mr. Twilwell," Anne says with a smile. "I haven't been here since poor old Lord Withington passed."

"Ah, yes. I understand he was something of a local legend!" Twilwell comments as he precedes her up the wide front stairs and opens the grand doorway.

"He was at that," Anne replies. "His parties at Christmastime were the highlight of the year...I do hope you'll consider hosting a ball or party of your own sometime."

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Twilwell says with a chuckle.

The inside of Applethorpe Manor is just as large and imposing as Anne remembers - particularly with white cloths draped across many of the furnishings. The first room is an imposing foyer-cum-grand hall, with a sweeping double staircase that leads up to the second-floor gallery and a passage to the dining room in the center.

"My! You've done wonders to the place," Anne comments as she looks about.

"Have I? Most of the old Lord's property was removed long ago, so I don't know what it was like before."

"Oh yes!" Anne says warmly, pleased to have a pleasant topic of conversation. "He used to have these musty old wall hangings all about. These busts are lovely - they make the room feel light and elegant. May I ask whom they depict?"

"My parents," Twilwell says, stopping to gaze up at the busts that flank the passage below the staircase. "Wonderful people, they were. Sadly my father died two years ago, my mother a few before that."

"I'm so sorry," Anne says gently.

Twilwell looks glum for a moment. "Yes. They were rather extraordinary, you know. Amassed the family fortune, all that. Still!" he says, straightening and getting ahold of himself. "One must carry on. And I know they'd want me to. May I show you the rest of the house?"

The tour passes quickly for Anne; the public rooms of this house, here on the ground floor, she visited many times while growing up. Although she's consciously being polite in her praise of Twilwell's improvements, it's not hard at all - he really _has _updated the place and made it more pleasant to live in (and to visit). The dining room, small ballroom, smoking room, and parlor are all quite lovely.

The only real surprise comes near the end of the tour, when Twilwell pauses at what Anne knows to be the door to the Manor's library. He knocks briefly at the door before entering, and when she follows him into the room Anne is surprised to see a young woman pulling a cloth back over a large object - perhaps a bust on a column or something like that, based on the size and shape. The young woman is dressed as a servant, and when she turns to bow to Twilwell and Anne, Anne can see that she has a fine-boned face, with large, limpid blue eyes, full lips, and light brown hair.

"Miss Foxhaven, this is Ella - formerly Eleanor Idington - my ward servant. I was in business with her father, and he made a series of rather serious errors...hence Ella coming into my household." Twilwell shrugs apologetically. "She cleans and performs some other services for me." To Ella, he asks, "Have you been doing your duty, Ella?"

"Yes, m- sir," the girl replies, eyes downcast. For a moment Anne wonders if she's slightly simple, because there's what looks like a sheen of saliva around her lips. But she pushes the thought out of her mind as irrelevant to her as a polite guest.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Idington," she says with a nod. "And sorry for your family's misfortune. 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 nods, barely perceptibly. She seems quite subdued; she hasn't lifted her gaze from the floor since they entered. Anne shivers slightly, but Twilwell just continues on with his tour. After admiring his collection of books (much larger than Lord Withington's), Anne 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 jovially. "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," Anne 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." Anne's heart sinks 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. Good afternoon!" she says brightly, blushing as well. "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, not at all," Anne says, blushing again but trying not to. "I, er - was merely doing as you were. Paying a visit to a new neighbor."

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

"Of course," Anne says, struggling to remain composed. 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 Anne 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 her ears are burning, 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..."