Pippa was dressed in clothes bought with her own money, made by a seamstress! The feel of fine fabric instead of the practical fabric... she felt different about it... it wasn't the same. Her mother and father had paid for her clothes, finery, and having been at work for Tristan without a clue as to how to work. She looked at herself in the mirror, not in admiration but indifference. She sat and held her work frock up.

The money, the finery, the preparation to move into a place of her own. She pictured Tris and all he had done for her despite her ignorance of many things. Then she looked at her room, the basket of mending she still had to do, at the things she collected as a maid.

Then she felt the baby move and dropped the dress in her lap to put her hand on the spot. She knew she was going to do vetter. Her child was going to learn how to work, to clean, to do chores... she was not going to let her baby grow up with soft hands. He or she would know how to rely on themself.

Pippa stood and put the frock in the small trunk she had paid for, but she felt her anxiety go through the roof and started to tremble a little.