new friends.

Unhappily, the friendly chatter of the neighbourhood, which should
supply us with something of the character of a resident, is quite
lacking at Paltley Hill in regard to Mr. Marrapit. Mr. Marrapit rarely
moves out beyond the fine wall that encircles Herons' Holt, his
residence; with Paltley Hill society rarely mixes. The vicar, with
something of a frown, might tell us that to his divers parochial
subscription lists Mr. Marrapit has consistently, and churlishly,
refused to give a shilling. Professor Wyvern's son, Mr. William
Wyvern, has been heard to say that Mr. Marrapit always reminded him
"of one of the minor prophets--shaved." Beyond this--and how little
helpful it is!--Paltley Hill society can give us nothing.

In a lower social grade of the district, however, much might be
learned. In the kitchens, the cottages, and the bar-parlours of
Paltley Hill, Mr. Marrapit is considerably discussed. Nicely mannered
as we are, servants' gossip concerning one in our own station of life
is naturally distasteful to us. At the same time it is essential to
our ease on being introduced that we should know something of this
gentleman. Assuring ourselves, therefore, that we shall not be
prejudiced by cheap chatter, let us hear what the kitchens, the
cottages, and the bar-parlours have to say.

Let it, at least, be written down; we shall know how to value such
stuff.

Material for this gossip, then, is brought into the kitchens, the
cottages, and the bar-parlours by Mr. Marrapit's domestic staff.