She hadn't told her father the full truth, just that she got hired and that Mr. Gordon, no... Lord Gordon, or something, had given her money to buy a uniform. Father had been proud of her, though he had warned her about the dangers of domestic service and had told her to tell him if anyone there ever acted inappropriately. She had promised, but she would probably break that promise. 

Now she had to go and buy the dress, but she needed advice. Or maybe she just needed Mrs. Blacke's attention, really. Either way, she found herself once again knocking on the Blacke family's door.

The bristled brush made a shower of water erupt from the smaller-than-she-would like metal bucket as Lottie dropped it in the suds. It was getting harder and harder to clean her floors these days. It was probably one of those temperance women rampaging about the evils of drink. Lottie dried her wet hands on her apron and opened the door. It was not a lady of means championing the virtues of being sober, but Anne Ward.

"Anne! This is a surprise! Do ye some need help dear?" Lottie asked recalling her recent offer to be a sympathetic ear. She leaned slightly on the doorframe to rest her aging knees.

Anne was glad that she was relieved with kindness. "Aye, Mrs. Blacke, but I hope I'm not disturbin' ye?"

"Just doin' some washin', Anne. I'll always make time fer ye. De ye want te come in?" Lottie said.

Anne smiled shyly, nodded, and followed Mrs. Blacke in. She sat down on the bench in the kitchen where she had sat last time. "I got a job," she announced, not without a fair amount of pride. "As a maid, two days a week. I get a full shillin' a day!"

The scrubbing could wait. Lottie sat next to Anne and listened to the good news.

"Two Shillin', I know ye'll help yer family, but don't forget to save some fer yerself. Does yer father know? I'd not like to think to told me afore him, but I'm touched you came all this way to tell me the news."

"Well done, Anne!" Lottie patted the girl's knee. It was the first step on a path to something better. Hopefully.

Anne beamed at Mrs. Blacke's words. "Aye I hope father will let me keep some fer pocket money." Or rather to save up, to somehow help Alice, but she dared not bring that up again. "I told 'im, 'e's proud of me." She bit her lip. There was something that disturbed her, but she was afraid to tell father, for fear that he wouldn't allow her to take up the job. She was afraid to tell Mrs. Blacke too, but she also wanted to tell someone. "Apparently 'e's an Earl that I'm workin' for... An artist... But 'e's a bit odd."

"Ooh an Earl, how exciting." Lottie replied.

But it was the occupation of Anne's new employer that worried her. I mean you had to be a little odd to try and make a living from selling paintings. Lottie had seen artists painting various things in town. I mean you'd have to be odd if you thought painting was a stable way to feed yerself. Rather it was a memory from long ago, back when young Lottie had worked in the factory up north. A girl Lottie was close to there met an 'artist' and told Lottie that she helped him paint. She left the factory soon after supposedly with child. Lottie shook her head grimly at the mental shadow of the event long passed.

"Anne, promise me yer'll be careful. These 'artist types will try te take advantage. Especially a pretty girl like ye." Lottie suspected Anne wasn't completely naïve, but the older woman still didn't feel comfortable explaining the facts of life to a girl who wasn't her own daughter. Surely the Ward women had done that?

"Now, do we celebrate with tea?"

"Aye, I will be. Father said t' same. But I ain't no fool. Not after what happened to poor Alice..." She bit her lip as she remembered how desperate her sister had been, what lengths she had gone to to try and cover it up. There was more. The Earl was a drunk, it seemed. But Anne dared not share it now. If Mrs. Blacke was already worried for her now, she might tell her not to work there and tell father if Anne gave her the full truth.

"Tea sounds lovely, but I haven't the time. I have to get a dress for t' uniform... actually, I wanted your advise..." Attention.

Lottie couldn't shake the thought of Anne and an artist from her mind, but now wasn't the time to think about that.

"Oh a uniform! And you need a mother's - I mean a woman's advice." Lottie quickly corrected herself. Anne wasn't hers. "I'm sure you'll look very smart, but let's make sure. I'll find me measure."