Ellie arrived at Pennyfeather Papers just after half past 10, the bells of St. Michael’s telling her so. There may have been a trace of strawberry jam at the corner of her lips from Willaby's. The tart had been darker and crunchier than usual. Her hands were full, carpet bag with her most cherished items, family keepsakes and a bible. In her other, she carried a suitcase with her clothes, specifically the lovely green dress she had worn yesterday and her current Sunday best.  Ellie hadn’t bothered to mention that Christine had purchased basically a whole new wardrobe of clothes for her, rendering her old ones spare. She didn’t want to make her other sister's jealous.  Maybe her friend Anne Ward could use her old dresses? 

Ellie wore her spare black smock with the pair boots she had received yesterday. She looked like a mourner at funeral service, yet no one had died, and she was not wilfully defying Christine’s prohibition of the colour black. Rather, she didn’t want to sully that beautiful green dress given she would be cleaning an attic. The black smocks would be great for the filthiest of household tasks.

She pushed the door open, the bell tinkling lightly.

“Miss Pennyfeather? It’s me, Ellie Russell.” The girl announced, her eyes adjusting to the relative gloom of the shaded stacks of books.

Christine was doing as she always did: relaxing. She perked up though and called out, " Back here, dear!" She said cheerfully and slowly stood, placing the book she had on her desk. She walked towards the entrance and smiled. "Ah..' She eyed the outfit and shrugged, the girl didn't have her new clothes yet save for that dress which wasn't good for cleaning. "Fantastic to see you. Let's go start on your room then. How was church today?"

"Yes, Miss." Ellie smiled. She was happy to see her too. As her employer led the way, Ellie considered the question of her spiritual growth as she walked up the narrow stairs, her cases banging against both walls. "Oh, chapel was good, Miss. The readin' was about bein' a good servant, an' stayin' alert fer the return of the master of the 'ouse." she said. Fitting.

Christine ah'd and turned , offering to take a suitcase to ease her burden. "Have they ever talked about being a good master? I think it is important to know the value of others, just because you pay them. You are paying for their service, they are still people who deserve to be treated as such. I wonder if enough people realize that." She mused as she headed upstairs but went to her room to put down the suitcases. "Let us clear out the other room. We will put your things in there once the furniture arrives."

"Not usually, Miss." Ellie responded. A lot of the sermons were geared to the poorest of the poor, reminding them not to sin, laying out expected behaviours. The owners were rarely mentioned. Christine offered a hand for one of her cases. Maybe she was different. One of the good ones.

Christine nodded but looked curious as she walked with the suitcase. "I know I am not one to talk, but I think the rich shouldn't be mentioned and let the poorer realize if they aren't being treated right." She certainly loved her sins and didn't go to church, so perhaps it was best she kept her mouth shut. "Or maybe that's why we are rich, right?" She chuckled teasingly.

"Alright, let's get this done before they arrive." She rolled up her sleeves and went to grab a broom and dust bin and then began to pick up some boxes of storage. "We can put this in the attic."

"Maybe, Miss." Ellie answered with a smile. She certainly didn't see Christine as an evil rich person hording wealth and casting superior looks down upon others. The woman hired Ellie at double her previous wage and bought Ellie a whole new wardrobe!

"Yes Miss." Her box was moderately heavy, quite dusty, and the lid screwed on, not giving a hint of the box's contents. By weight alone, it wasn't full of books.

Christine flashed a smile at the young lady and then went to carrying stuff up to the attic. "Sweep for me while I grab the heavy things. I would feel terrible if you fell from the weight. These stairs will murder someone some day, I just know it." She laughed and headed off to put away some things to clear out the room.

"Yes, Miss." she swapped her box for a broom. There was something soothing about sweeping the room. It was a visible expression of the cleaning process, an easy shortcut to a fresh start. Layers of dirt, decades worth in some cases were slowly and methodically removed in clouds, small ones, big ones, sometimes no clouds at all to reveal the original surface beneath. The only bad side was the coughing that would inevitably follow.

Ellie was left alone to work for the most part, Christine would pop in to grab a box and disappear again. After about ten minutes of moving things, the silence of the bookstore was shattered by a loud crashing sound.

Luckily, Christine was on the stairs, against the wall and looking down in mild surprise and shame as a box of dishware she had purchased but never had an excuse to use was now shattered on the ground at the base of the stairs. "Pity.."She sighed flattening her lips and shrugged. "I will get to it after you're done with the broom, Little Ellie." She said with a sad smile.