Rose brought in Mr. Meijer's evening tea with a mixture of smugness and dread. It was an improvement from usual, when there was only dread. Mr. Meijer seemed to despise her for reasons she still could not quite understand, and it was worse when he was moody. And he was always moody. He wasn't quite the witch herself, but he could certainly make her quake. 

But today was different. Last night she had become an engaged woman, and though she still felt the familiar fear, having to go near her employer, she knew her position was different now.

Rose quietly put the tray on the table beside Mr. Meijer,  but then cleared her throat, pulled a letter out of her pocket and placed it on the tray beside the cup. "I'd like to hand in me notice, ser." That came out like a terrified plea rather than a smug statement. Damn it.