She gave a little bit of a peek into the room in question, but he closed the door before she had a chance to read any of the spines of the various books the man had about the desk. She didn't get curious, she had no reason to be, right? Not at the moment in any case. She continued to follow him through the house, listening to him explain all that she must do in order to clean his house. Overwhelmed, she could feel that lump forming in her throat that warned her that she was feeling a little bit of stress, yet she made no complaints.

Tristan did not look at her, and and so he did not see her reaction. He led her on to the next room and opened the door. It was another bedroom. "This is the guest room. You can leave it alone unless I expect guests." He did hoped Tobias would visit soon. He closed the door and gestured at the third door. "This room doesn't have a function yet. It's mostly storage, so you can leave that alone." And so they had passed all doors. He looked at her. "You think you can handle it?" At least he lived alone, so there wasn't a wife to criticize her cleaning, or dirty children to undo her work. That had to be something, right?

Did she think she could handle it? Not really, but what choice did she have in the matter? It was either survive or not survive, there was no in-between with that. "I think so," she said with a nod anyways, not letting her words sound like a question. She didn't want that. Her eyes moved to him and she made eye contact assuming he did as well, and she sighed as she started speaking, "It will be a lot but I am certain I will be fine."

Tristan nodded. "That's good. I have a contract in the drawing room for you to sign." And he began to lead the way downstairs. Assuming that she followed, he said: "We'll have a month's trial during which you can leave or I can dismiss you any time. After this, I'll start paying you three shillings and six pence per week, and there will be a three week's notice from either side. As you take on more responsibilities, I'll increase your wage, to a maximum of six shillings." He entered the drawing room, picked up the contract and handed it to her. "There's pen and ink on the table there."

She followed him of course, not surprised about a contract which she must sign. It was to make things legal, she supposed as she took the contract in hand, carefully read it, and then nodded. She took the pen and signed it in elegant cursive, her name written with neat femininity. She returned the pen and then offered the contract back, each line that needed signing was signed and dated. It was done. She was now a maid.

Tristan took the contract and inspected whether everything that had been signed was signed. "Hmm.. such elegant handwriting," he said while he handed her one version of the contract. "You should have applied for office clerk."

"Is that so? Well... I live for a challenge, Doctor Wells," she said as if quipping. It was her way of jesting anyway, and that would be clear enough by the way her eyes warmed up and the way the corners of her lips tugged slightly upward. At least she thought he was jesting too, for the man did seem to have a little bit of a darker sense of humor than she if her observations were correct in any case.

Tristan was a little surprised by her response, and he lightly tilted his head to the side. He had not actually been joking, and he wasn't sure how to read her reaction. "I'll keep my eyes and ears open for you," he offered.

Her smile dimmed a little when she realized he wasn't joking. Heat crept into her cheeks and she cleared her throat, "Thank you..."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Very well. With the formalities done, I have some business in town. I'll pick up some manuals from the library on my way."