John walked along the school's grounds, passing various students on his way. The sweet sound of the young boys singing "To Be a Pilgrim" could be heard in the air from the morning assembly. Some of the elder boys were raising the Union Flag on its pole in the courtyard. Students marched past him calling out, "Morning, sir." To which he nodded and continued on his way.

John entered the school as the class bell rang, calling the boys to attendance. Professors went down the halls beside him, going into their classrooms.

"Headmaster," John nodded to the man as he walked down the hall. The day continued on slowly, John teaching his class or wandering about the halls between breaks. He leaned a cane against his shoulder as he told a class about history, tapping it gently as he paced the room.

"…advanced with little impediment. The French were all but spent, with only two battalions of the old guard remaining. A final reserve force was charged with protecting Napoleon, but by evening, the advance of the Allied troops had forced them to retreat…" he droned on.

After class period, John went down the halls in the direction of his study. He was absorbed in his thoughts and hardly acknowledged anyone who passed him. The sound of scrubbing met his ears and he glanced up from the ground and saw two maids washing the floor up ahead. John skirted around them.

"Morning, sir," a soft voice called out. John turned his head and noticed that Rose was one of the maids cleaning. How could he have missed that? She smiled at him sweetly.

"Yes, hi," he mumbled and nodded to her with a tight smile. Then turning back around, continued down the hall, forgetting that his room was not in fact down there, but up the staircase he had just passed on his right.

⋆⋆⋆DW⋆⋆⋆

Rose watched John continue down the hall. Then sighing softly, turned back to scrub the floor.

"Head in the clouds, that one," Jenny the housemaid said beside her with a shake of her head. "Don't know why you're so sweet on him."

"He's just kind to me, that's all," Rose said giving Jenny a glance. "And not everyone's that considerate, what with me and you, being housemaids."

"Yeah, but being maids has its perks," Jenny laughed. "Like hearing all the rumors between the teachers. Remember the one about Mister Tailor?"

"Oh yes," Rose giggled. "I swear every single maid went out to lake that night, trying to see if they could catch him skinning dipping!"

"They still do, mate!" Jenny and Rose burst out into laughter.

"Ah, now then," a pompous voice called out. Rose looked up to see two senior boys standing above them.

"You two," a boy with a crooked smile said. "You're not paid to have fun, are you? Put a little backbone into it."

"Yes, sir," Jenny bowed her head. "Sorry, sir."

"You there," the other boy called out. "What's your name again?"

"Rose, sir," she nodded. "Rose Tyler."

"Well then, Tyler," he smirked. "You missed a spot. Oh wait, that's just your reflection!"

The two boys guffawed and the one with the crooked smile clapped his mate on the shoulder.

"That's very funny, sir," Rose grumbled.

"Careful, now," Jenny whispered. "Don't answer back."

Rose opened her mouth to speak when a loud voice called out from down the hall, "Hutchinson!"

The two boys spun around to see John Smith stalking toward them, his hands clasped behind his back and his brow furrowed. Hutchinson and his friend glanced at each other uncertainly, before straitening up and bowing to the professor.

"Mister Smith, sir," the both said in unison. Rose and Jenny exchanged looks from the floor as John stopped before them.

"Now then, Hutchinson, Baines," John growled, glaring down at the two boys from under his mortar board. "I am under the impression that you two were harassing my housemaid. Am I correct?"

"Er, no, sir," Hutchinson stammered. "I was just, we were just, I mean—"

Baines cut in, "We weren't trying to—"

"Silence," John snapped, quelling the two. "Tell me, Hutchinson, do you know the penalty for the destruction of school property?"

"Er, yes, sir," Hutchinson glanced at Baines.

"And what is that?"

"A whipping, sir."

"Correct," John turned his glare to the other boy. "Now, Baines, do you know the consequences for destruction of a professor's property?"

"Yes, sir," Baines said in a higher-than-normal voice.

"It's very much the same punishment isn't it? Just the professor gets to say when to stop. Am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you two know what happens after you break school rules more than once?"

"You get expelled, sir," Hutchinson gulped.

"Very good," John said straightening up and narrowing his eyes. "Now then, that maid there," John nodded to Rose. "Is my property. And any pain inflicted on her, either physical or orally, is a direct assault of attempting to destroy my property."

Both boys were shaking now and glancing nervously at each other.

"And can I assume that both you two have bullied the maids, including my personal housemaid, before this?"

The boys' eyes were wide with fear.

"Now, I'm going to tell you two something, and I want you to listen very carefully," John growled, towering over them. "If I hear any word of you harassing my maid again, I will have you both expelled. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, sir," the boys both stammered nodding their heads vigorously.

"Glad that you understand," John said sternly. "Now back to class. Consider this your warning. I won't be showing you two any mercy next time."

"Of course, sir," Hutchinson stammered. "Thank you, sir."

Bowing quickly, the boys scampered away, pushing each other down the hall in desperation to get as much distance from the professor as they could. John gave a small nod and then turned to Rose.

"You tell me right away if they cause you any more trouble," he told her, staring down at the housemaid with a furrowed brow, but concern in his eyes.

"Yes, sir," Rose nodded. "That was not necessary, but thank you, sir."

"Oh, my pleasure," John gazed down the hall as various students went to their classes. "I will not have unchivalrous boys in my school. Well, good day, Rose. See you later."

"Good day, sir," Rose bowed her head. John gave her a curt nod and then turned to his left and climbed the stairwell that led to his study. Rose watched him go and then turned back to Jenny.

"Well, I've never seen anything like that," Jenny said shaking her head. "He must think very highly of you."

"I think my answer to their jeers would have been better," Rose said as she began scrubbing the floor again.

"And what would've that been?"

"I'd answer back with my bucket over his head," Rose gestured to the water filled pale beside her.

"Oh, I wish," Jenny laughed and joined Rose with the scrubbing. "Just think, though. In a few years time, boys like that will be running the country."

"1913," Rose murmured. "They might not."

⋆⋆⋆DW⋆⋆⋆

John balanced a stack of books in his hands, reaching all the way up to his chin, as he backed out of his study. He'd spent a few hours writing is his journal about what he could recall from his interesting dreams, when he realized that class started in just a few minutes. He'd never much cared for morning classes. They always seemed to interrupt his down time when he recorded his dreams. So now, here he was, juggling his books and not seeing where he was going.

"Oh, hello again, Mister Smith," Rose's voice called out from his left. John jumped slightly and turned quickly to see her, causing one of the books on the top of his stack to fall.

"Ah, oh, there we go," John stammered looking down at the small book on the ground.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir," Rose said. "I shouldn't have startled you. Let me help you."

"No, no, I've got it, no," John put his boot on the small book, trapping it to the floor. "Er, how best to retrieve? Er, tell you what, if you could take these."

John passed Rose the stack of books and she grunted at their weight. Her head barley poked over the top book as she watched him quizzically. Bending down, John retrieved the fallen book and smiled at Rose.

"Good," she nodded rearranging the books in her hands in order to see him better.

"No harm done," he grinned at her. "So, er, how's your morning going?"

"Fine."

"Hutchinson hasn't given you any more trouble has he?"

"No," Rose shook her head. "Doubt he'll ever speak to me again, in fear of offending me. Which is fine with me."

"Ah, good then."

"Yes, and I appear to be holding your books."

"Yes, so you are," John realized and went to relive Rose of her burden. "Sorry, sorry. Just let me—"

"No, why don't I take half?" Rose offered and passed him part of the stack.

"Ah, brilliant idea, brilliant," John smiled. "Perfect division of labor."

"We make quite a team," Rose mused with a laugh.

"Don't we just," John laughed with her. He always liked when Rose laughed; a joyful sound that could lighten any darkened mood.

"So, these books," Rose nodded to the mound in her arms. "Were they being taken in any particular direction?"

"Yes, er, this way," John nodded behind him. Rose smiled and walked forward in that direction with John following. They went into a smaller corridor, maneuvering around students and maids. John picked up his pace so that he was in step with the housemaid.

"I just want to thank you again, sir," Rose looked over to him. "For earlier today, with Hutchinson and Baines. I can stand up for myself, mind you. But thanks anyway, sir."

"No, no, it was nothing," John smiled. "Truth be told, when it's just you and me, I'd much rather you call me Mister Smith. Sir just sounds, well sirly."

"Ah, Mister Smith it is then," Rose said as they rounded the corner in front of a stair well.

"Even though you're only a housemaid," John and Rose went down the first flight of stairs and stopped at the bend. "You could even say John."

"John?"

"That's my name."

"Well, obviously," Rose smiled at him. "But I think it would seem highly disrespectful if I was to call you John. The headmaster would not hear of it, sir."

"Oh, yes, right," John looked disappointedly down at the books in his hands. "That's true."

Rose seemed to sense his discomfort and changed the subject, nodding to a billboard covered with posters hanging on the wall next to the landing.

"Have you seen this, Mister Smith?" she said. "The annual dance at the village hall tomorrow. It's nothing formal, but rather fun by all accounts. Do you think you'll go?"

"I-I hadn't thought about it," John stammered glancing at Rose quickly before resuming to stare that the billboard.

"Well, you should better decide," Rose said. "Already many of the single women have been asked. But I know your friend, Matron Redfern hasn't been asked yet."

John wondered if he had imagined it, but he thought he detected bitterness in her voice.

"Joan? Well, I guess I—"John looked over to Rose and blurted out, "Have you ever considered going, maybe with me?"

John felt his heart skip a beat when the words left his mouth. Oh God, why did he say that? John wished he had a time machine so that he could go back and unsay those words. Why was it that he got so flustered around Rose? He always seemed to splutter out anything that was on his mind when she was around.

"Servants aren't allowed to join in the village festivities," Rose broke through his thoughts, her cheeks flushed and voice soft. "And it's been ages since I've last been to a dance; probably doubt I'd remember how."

"Erm, I'm sorry. I, I—well, I should imagine that you'd be, er, I mean, I-I never thought you'd be one for," John started babbling as he backed away, with his cheeks turning red as well. "I mean, there's no reason why you shouldn't. If you do, you may not. Er, I-I probably won't, but even if I did then, then I couldn't. Er, I mean I wouldn't want to—"

"The stairs," Rose interrupted him.

"Er, what about the stairs?"

"They're right behind you," just as the words left her mouth, John stumbled backwards and tumbled down the stairs in a flurry of books and papers.