Anne tried to hide a rather smug smile when the other girl called her smart. Gathering driftwood wasn't even her idea.

She listened to the other girl, impressed with both what she said and the ease with which she talked. There was something careless about Mable. Miss Mable. It had to be a rich girl in old clothes to be so carefree. Surely they had a lot of land in Pennsylvania. That was what she meant with it not being quite a farm, but them having land. It was like the landed families in the area, in their fine manors and parks.

Oh dear... Miss Mable smelled the ocean and fish everywhere. Did Anne smell of fish too? Back in school some girls had told her she did, and they had made up excuses not to sit next to her and made it clear to her when the teacher had turned her back, that it was because they couldn't stand the smell. Unique, Miss Mable called it. At least she had the fine manners the rich prided themselves on.

Anne looked pensive and timid by the time they reached the basket. She picked it up. "I suppose, Miss. I hope its no inconvenience to you. I ah..." She pulled the basket a little further on her hip and nodded at it. "I don't mean to trouble ye any further..."