When the little maid arrives with more tea, she grows concerned at the sight of me. "'Tis too stifflin' in here, mum. Ye mun take your tea in ta Atrium, with ta Laird and Laidee of ta house. Ta fresh air will do ye good. If me master or his man should see ye like this, they'll be after firin' me sure as rain." I wave away her concern, but she is not about to take "No" for an answer. The wee thing gathers my bonnet and cape and waits at the door until I comply. Not wishing her to lose her employ with the Godwinsons, I obediently follow her downstairs. Feeling a tad lightheaded, I hold onto the bannister and govern each highly polished step with care. It seems the "stifflin'" heat really has gone to my head. I must remember to recommend her to Victor, for it is true what the English say about good help: We never know the worth of water 'til the well is dry.