After the early dinner, and the Vicar’s departure for his daily round among his parishioners--a sauntering, easy-going visitation at all times--Mrs. Dulcimer set out in her best bonnet and sable-bordered mantle to make some calls. The sable mantle was well known in Little Yafford as a kind of insignia of office. When Mrs. Dulcimer wore it she meant business, and business with Mrs. Dulcimer meant the business of other people. Her bonnets were known also, with their different grades of merit. She had a bonnet for the landed gentry, and a second best bonnet for the tradespeople, and last year’s bonnet, done up by Rebecca, for her visits amongst the poor. To-day she wore her landed gentry bonnet, and her first visit was to the Park. Whether a man who has made his money in trade, and has taken somebody else’s mansion and park, can be considered to belong to the landed gentry, is an open question; but Little Yafford gave Mr. Piper the benefit of the doubt, and as there were not many rich people in the village, he ranked high. Mrs. Piper was at home, and delighted to see her dear Mrs. Dulcimer. There is no more lively companion than a good-natured busybody, except an ill-natured one. Mrs. Dulcimer’s conversation lacked the pungency and acidity, the cayenne and lemon with which your cynical gossip flavours his discourse, but she was always well posted in facts, and, if too much given to pity and deplore, had at least plenty to tell. The two matrons had the drawing-room all to themselves--a large and splendid apartment, furnished in the ugliest style of the later Georges, but glorified by the Piper family with Berlin woolwork and beaded cushions, ormolu inkstands, Parian statuettes, Bohemian vases, malachite envelope-boxes, and mother-o’-pearl albums in great profusion. Mrs. Piper was a devoted mother, and, on the children being inquired for, began a string of praises. ‘Elizabeth is getting on splendidly with her music,’ she said; ‘you’ll be quite surprised. She and Mary play the overture to “Zamper.” You’d be delighted.’ ‘Miss Scratchell taught them, I suppose?’ ‘Oh dear no! Miss Scratchell superintends their practice; but they have a master from Great Yafford, Mr. Jackson, the organist--a very fine musician. Isabella is a very nice player,’ said Mrs. Piper, with a patronizing air. She had never got beyond ‘Buy a Broom’ and ‘The Bird Waltz’ in her own day, but was severely critical now. ‘But I couldn’t think of having my girls taught by a lady. They don’t get the touch, or the style, or the execution.’ ‘What a sweet girl Bella is!’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer, who had come to the Park on purpose to talk about Miss Scratchell. She was not going to work blindly this time, or to lay herself open to such reproaches as Rebecca had assailed her with on account of the Parker and Morison marriage. She would find out all about Bella before she set to work; and who so well able to inform her as Bella’s employer?