Rose looked shocked when the girl just ripped her petticoat like that. Even Rose's old and worn clothes were too precious to do that. She might get in trouble if she returned late. But then again, if she did not address the wound, it might get infected. Not to mention the fact that she'd get blood over everything. And she still needed to replace that vial. Rose followed. "I'm so sorry for troublin' you, miss. You are very kind."

"No trouble at all." She took her to the pharmacists and bought a replacement for the vial, but also a jar of nasty smelling stuff and some bandages. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up."

Rose felt very embarrassed for having Miss Carrington buy her something. Her father always said they were no beggars. They worked hard with dignity. But she cared more about keeping her job at this point. "Thank you so much, miss. I don't know how I could possibly repay you."

"I could use some friends," she said honestly... "I prefer the company of my servants to my own family... with the exception of papa and maybe my brothers. Perhaps." She checked to see if the bleeding was staunched and it was, and then she use Iodine to disinfect the wounds and then wrapped her fingers up in a little gauze in case the bleeding started again. "There, good as new." And not bad either.

Rose blushed once more. Was the girl asking her to be her friend? How could she be friends with a lady like her? Simon had once seemed to be friends with a rich fellow. He had come for dinner. Probably someone he did things with for money. There was a strange connection begging to be made, but Rose couldn't figure out why that vague memory suddenly seemed so important. She drew a sharp breath when the other girl put iodine on the wound, but then she wrapped it and the pain was gone. Why was some rich girl tending to her? It should be the other way round.

"Thank you... Oh but I'm sure you must have better things to do than... befriend servants..." Did she? What did rich girls do?" The daughters of the house she had served in before never seemed to be doing anything but have tea, sit around and draw a little.

"I live just over there," she said, pointing in the direction of her new home, which was a small house that didn't look like it was worth much. It was worth the world to Pearl. "I don't have a lot of friends. I am an aspiring author and a tutor for young ladies now... Couldn't stand sitting on my behind all day doing nothing. I like talking to people so I have inspiration for my work. I'd love it if you and I could chat soon."

Rose looked at her confused. That seemed unusual. She thought the highest thing girls like her aspired to was marrying a wealthy husband who was a minister, or a judge, or just owned a lot of things - which seemed to be a valid way of making money. "Oh..." she said. She worked hard and when she did get a day off, she visited her family to help out at home and look after father. But the girl had helped her so much, Rose felt she owed her this strange friendship, although she still couldn't fathom why the girl seemed to want to talk to her or help out at all. "Err... I have Sundays of sometimes... I could drop by if ye like, miss..."

"Please... call me Pearl." she said before examining her handy work. "I have to go to market and get a few things now, but I hope to see you on Sunday."

"Yes, m- Pearl." It felt strange to call her by her first name. "Thank you again".

That Sunday afternoon after church, she knocked at the door. She was wearing a simple black dress and a gray bonnet. She was nervous. What if the lady had forgotten and she was imposing?

Pearl opened the door. She was dressed in a blouse and a long black skirt, an apron over that. There was a streak of flour on her nose. "Do come in," she invited and stepped back. The house was a modest one and there were still trunks here and there to be unpacked. "Forgive my clutter, I haven't finished unpacking my trunks and I sent my maid to market for some berries for me to make jam with. I had forgotten I needed that. Would you like a tart?"