Jules' heart sank a little more each time her poor victim protested that she was fine. "I really didn't mean to!" she called down, as though that made a bit of difference. The poor young woman was covered in tea, whether Juliana had intended it to happen or not. It had been a large bucket, too, which meant that it was likely going to soak through all her various layers, if it hadn't already — and the cold air would probably give the poor lady pneumonia, so merry Christmas to her.

"Stay right there. I'm coming down to get you," she yelled before bounding away from the window and towards the narrow stairs that lead down to Diagon Alley. Most of their clientele used the floo, so the stairs were rather neglected; Juliana nearly tripped halfway down on an uneven board as she hurried, but managed to catch herself and avoid another calamity. Once at street level she threw open the door and gestured the young woman inside.

"Here, come in, please. We've a warm fire, and I can help dry your things out. We'll have to get those off right away or they'll stain," she said with a frown. Tea was, after all, not exactly the best thing to wash one's laundry with. Fortunately, the House of Lytton was more or less the best place to have a wardrobe catastrophe, as she would have all the tools on hand to assist with drying and stain removal. Hopefully she could manage it without letting Mr. Lytton know what had happened. An opportunity to be chastised would be precisely what she didn't need, after having had to deal with Mrs. Reading!