"I would be more inclined to believe you, Miss Carrie, were you more capable of movement without my support." With his foot, Alfred pressed a button on the table to lower it to a comfortable level, then helped Carrie onto it. "Maintain the pressure on your forehead. I need to sterilize myself to avoid putting you in danger. I'm sure you appreciate the irony of that statement." Before he went to the sink, Alfred opened a drawer and pulled out a few clean garments. "I believe these belong to Miss Cassandra, but they are clean. I suggest you change out of those... what I will very charitably refer to as 'clothes.'" Alfred then walked away.
Alfred scrubbed and gloved and busied himself for a few minutes while he waited for Carrie to dress. There was another reason he insisted she change: the movements involved would give her a better idea of what, exactly, was injured. And it would possibly teach her not to do whatever she was doing ever again.