Stroll the gardens.

"I'd be delighted to see the grounds," Anne says with a smile. "It's been some years since I was able to visit Applethorpe Manor."

"Of course!" Let me show you about." Twilwell gestures, and Anne falls in by his side as he leads her around the corner of the manor, along a gravel path that leads them to a hill overlooking the estate, which falls away in front of them, a sweeping vista of green. "I suspect you're familiar with the estate in general: the woods to the southeast, and of course the trout pound you can see there. The lawns are quite lovely; I was pleased by how well the manager had maintained them while they were looking for a buyer."

"Yes, everything looks just as I remember it," Anne comments with a smile. "I'd forgotten what a charming prospect it offered, though; I truly think you did well by your purchase."

"I'm quite pleased!" Twilwell says with a laugh. "I've made a few small changes, but things are mostly as you remember them, I'm sure. Come, this way - you can get a good look at the hedge maze from here, and I'm having it expanded."

"Oh, really? I remember it being quite - oh!" Anne cuts herself off, then blushes slightly, embarrassed at herself. Her surprise is due to the fountain that's just come into view. While the fountain has always been there, on the terrace outside the house, the statue on a plinth in the middle of it has been changed. Where once there was a statue of the King who gave Lord Withington's family the estate to manage, the statue now depicts a wiry bearded man with goat legs and small horns coming from his head. More shockingly, the statue is a group composition: it also includes a nude woman, who's squatting down before the goat-legged man and has his...manhood...in her mouth! It's a large organ, filling the statue-woman's mouth entirely, but she's still depicted gazing up at the goat-legged man adoringly, one hand on his furry thigh and the other cradling his balls as she takes him down her throat. The man has one hand resting on her head, the other arm spread wide as though declaiming. He wears a smile that might well be considered a smirk.

Twilwell follows her eyes and laughs slightly. "Ah, yes - that is a change. I felt the previous statue was rather Gothic, so I ordered this one installed. A satyr and a nymph; classical symbols of fertility, of course. I hope that the estate will prosper."

"Yes, of - of course." Anne's struck by the idea that this isn't the conjunction most conducive to fertility per se, but she brushes the thought hurriedly aside and averts her eyes. "It's...er...rather frank."

"No no, it's Italian actually," Twilwell says, then laughs. "I'm joking of course. Yes, it is rather, I admit. I have cutting-edge taste in art, I'll be honest. And Italians are rather open about such things. But do you think it too much?"

"I...it would not be my place to judge, Mr. Twilwell." Anne forces a smile for him. "After all, it is _your _home. You should have what pleases you in and around it."

"Indeed," he says, smiling broadly at her. "Well, shall we continue our tour?"

The rest of the tour has no more surprises; as he said, Mr. Twilwell has not made many surprising or unusual changes to the grounds. Anne makes appreciative noises throughout, but it's not hard for her to project pleasure and enthusiasm; Twilwell has indeed improved the place, and he proves a jocular and entertaining companion.

As they're returning to the front of the house, the couple are brought up short by a shrill voice: "My goodness! Miss Foxhaven! I never would have expected to see you here." Anne blinks in surprise as she sees two familiar faces standing at the bottom of the front 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, summoning an enthusiasm for the couple she doesn't feel. "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 toward them. 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 firmly. "I 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. "Well, I'm most put out not to be the first to welcome you, sir. Still, I suppose it can't be helped. The Foxhavens are fine girls."

"Ah, yes - you mentioned you had sisters," Twilwell says, politely turning the conversation back to Anne.

"Yes, sir. Four," Anne says. Turning to Mr. Twilwell, she drops him a brief curtsey. "I should, in fact, probably be getting back to them now. 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 she smiles to herself as the driver sets off. It might not be much, but it seems to her a good first impression was made.

***

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..."