Yes; flirt!

"I admire your appreciation to classical art," Rebecca says with a slight smirk. She tilts her head as she takes the fountain in. "Still...where did you get it?"

"I ordered it from Italy," Twilwell tells her, sounding intrigued. "Why? Is something amiss?"

"It doesn't seem quite...realistic, does it?"

"It's a satyr and a nymph."

Rebecca laughs. "Just so. But even nymphs have to obey the demands of nature, no?" She turns to him. "It seems bizarre to sculpt a woman squatting." As though just by way of demonstration, she approximates the stance of the nymph in the sculpture. "Your legs would tire quickly like this. Given their activity, would it not make more sense for her...to kneel?" Carefully, she drops to her knees on the pathway. "Yes. Much better."

Twilwell looks down at her, one eyebrow quirked in astonishment and interest. "I see what you mean..."

Rebecca gazes back up at him around a dark curl of hair, heart suddenly pounding as she realizes that in this position, he's uncomfortably - but enticingly - close to her. For a moment, neither says anything as they hold their gaze; then she clears her throat and climbs back to her feet, slightly flushed. Twilwell starts and gives her a hand to help her up.

"Well! In any case. I should not employ that sculptor again, were I you," she tells him with a little laugh, playing the incident off as a joke.

"No indeed," he laughs. "Well! Now that I've been educated on the verisimilitude of my art, shall we continue?"

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. Rebecca makes appreciative noises throughout, and Twilwell proves a jocular and entertaining companion. She's even starting to like him a bit, as they return to the front stairs.

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." Rebecca has to resist scowling when 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 coolly. "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, I'm not," Rebecca says dismissively. "I just wished to welcome our new neighbor to the county. It is so important to get to know one's neighbors after all." She smiles flirtatiously at Twilwell.

"Hm!" Mrs. Wagaton's eyes dart back and forth between Rebecca 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 Rebecca.

"Indeed. Four of them, so you can imagine the distraction," Rebecca 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 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 smirks to herself as the driver sets off. She doubts that Mr. Twilwell will soon forget the sight of her kneeling on his lawn...

***

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..."