Mable reached out excitedly for her drink when it arrived while Edmund held his tea close, soaking up as much of the warmth from the cup as he could with his two hands.  The meal Tobias had bought for them looked delicious, he could hardly wait to dig in - but he'd not take a bite before the man did.  That was manners, wasn't it?

"Oh, sure."  Camping would have been just fine, but Edmund wasn't going to refuse the barn.  From the corner of his eye, he saw Mable make a face at Tobias' words, but he spoke again before she could.

"If there's no room in the house for Mable, sir, you really don't need to worry about it.  The both of us are used to camping and - and other sleeping arrangements similar.  It's not always, um, ideal of course, but Mable enjoys it."

The girl nodded vigorously in agreement, silent only because she was still sipping on her lemonade.

"That's not right for a lass. Our maid Jenny's around 'er age. They can share." He began to eat and after swallowing his first bite he asked: "How old ye two anyway." It was hard to say. The boy seemed mature, but looked fragile, hardly like a grown man. The girl looked around Jenny's age, but acted younger.

Edmund gave Mable a look, pleading her not to argue further on the matter.  She pouted, but seemed to acquiesce, at least for the moment.  The lemonade put her in a good mood, thankfully.

Seeing Tobias start his own plate, Edmund pulled his own closer and started on some of the greens.

"I'm eighteen," he said, sitting up a little straighter as he did.  "Mable is thirteen.  Um, we grew up on our own, but Mable's had a tutor.  Hence her... sociability.  She's very friendly, as you can see."  The girl beamed, hand covering her mouth, full of the steak pie.

Tobias would have estimated the boy at least a year younger. Was the kid starved?

"On your own?" he asked. "I thought ye said ye lived on a farm? What about yer parents?" What about the girl having a tutor and the boy being illiterate? Something didn't seem right here.

Both siblings blinked with wide eyes at the question.  Edmund was grateful for Mable's full mouth; if it weren't, he was sure she'd dig this hole he made even deeper.  Though, Edmund was just as likely to do the same.

"We did," he said quickly, "live on a - a farm, I mean, but.  Our father was - he was sick a lot, so it was just us two on our own, taking care of the farm most of the time."

"And our mothers are probably dead," Mable added, having finished chewing.  "Only the Lord knows where they are now.  It;s very tragic, really."

"Oh... I'm sorry," he said. He wondered how they could not know what had happened to their mothers. But perhaps the father had been so sick he had not even been able to tell them. "Did he..." Too direct. "What happened to the farm?"

"After our father passed," Edmund responded carefully, "we did our best to carry on, but - the grief was too much.  I - we ended up, um, selling the property, used the money to travel here.  We wanted a fresh start."

Tobias hadn't questioned further about their father, but Edmund could tell he wanted to, so it was best to put all his curiosities to rest at once.  Mable was still thankfully silent, her gaze averted to her food.

Why on earth would they sell a farm and rather than invest the money in something productive, use it to travel abroad?

Because they were children. He would have thought the boy wiser, but then he remembered that he was uneducated.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "Did ye come 'ere with a plan?"

A plan.  Edmund suddenly felt to curl up under the table and stay there.  He could only imagine what a foolish picture of himself he was painting for Tobias.

"We - yes, of course we did, but out belongings got lost on the trip over, along with the rest of our money.  So, we've hit a bit of a rough patch, you see."  Embarrassed, Edmund picked up his cup and took a sip of his tea.  Mable, darling girl she was, took it as an opportunity to speak up again.

"But even so, we've had lots of luck since coming to Whitby!  We've met so many nice people and made a lots new friends, and now with this job you're offering - it's hard to stay sad for very long!  All things considered, we're very blessed."

Just lost? Stolen? Without any trace? Just like that, could that be? Or squandered? Or were did they not actually have that farm but were mere labourers on it, keeping up a fantasy that made them feel better? He did get the feeling the boy wasn't telling him the whole truth.

He cracked a smile at the girl. "That's a good way of lookin' at life, and that will get ye far, lass. Never lose that."