In the morning, Pete's eating cereal in front of the TV and guffawing at the antics of Davey And Goliath. I preferred the Gravey version of this on The Simpsons, but other than that I have nothing bad to say about this tableau.
That evening, Pete awakens on the same couch, although he at least managed to put on a decent shirt sometime in the intervening hours. Cut to him taking the garbage out to what looks like the floor's service hallway, and as soon as he's opened the door, he hears crying. Rounding the corner, he comes across a well-built young girl trying to stuff a white dress down the incinerator chute, and Pete, after asking if she's okay and getting no response other that further sobbing, asks if she's trying to get the thing in or out, which I suppose is good information to have but still strikes me as hilarious in a uniquely Pete Campbell way. In a German accent, she tells him it's stuck, which doesn't exactly answer his question, but as I mentioned English is not her first language. After identifying her as "the Lawrences'" au pair, he offers to deal with the dress, but when he pulls it out, he sees it's been stained with what looks like red wine, and asks what happened. She says she can't tell him, so he changes tacks and asks her name, which she reluctantly supplies as "Gudrun." He offers that he's "Peter" and promises that he won't get her in trouble, so she spills (heh) what happened: She had a party and borrowed the dress, and the mishap occurred, and she can't get it cleaned and now the family's about to return and she doesn't want them to send her home. He points out that getting rid of the dress is no solution, as they'll just think she stole it. This only causes her further despair, so he suggests that she put it back where she found it and, when her employers see it, blame it on their little girl, but Gudrun says she would never do that, sounding a bit scandalized. Hilariously, Pete merely nods, like, "Okay, you've got scruples, I'll work with that," and when he learns the Lawrences won't be back until Thursday, he offers to take the dress to see what he can do. She hands it over reluctantly but hopefully, although she'd probably be less of the latter if she'd seen him in action at return counters in the past, and he seems heartened when he sees it's labeled "Bonwit Teller." After grandly saying that people think New York isn't friendly, he cautions that he's not promising anything, echoing Henry Francis in the way he warned Betty he wasn't sure what he could do about the reservoir issue. Her enthusiasm wanes a little, but whether that's because she's less sure he can help or because she's getting the sense there might be a quid pro quo expected here is for you to decide, but whichever it is, she bids him an unsmiling good night.