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Lottie started down the stairs after Anne. "Bill - Mister Blacke said any more fish for tea this week, he'll grow a tail an' swim 'ome. So I got pork shin. I'll stew it with carrots, turnips, and peas. That alright?" she asked Anne, not that the girl had any say in what Lottie served, but she would be eating with them. "You and Kate should have yer friend Ellie over for afternoon tea one of these days. Like we did that one time..." Lottie was dimily aware of a shared history with the girl.
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Age: 16 (4 November 1879)
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"Oh, aye that sounds delicious," Anne replied. "I suppose Mr. Blacke wouldn't like to be a fisherman then." When Anne's meals contained protein at all, it was usually fish. Occasionally there was a little bacon. Other meats were usually saved for Sunday, unless it was a good season.
"I think that would be nice." She stood around the kitchen because she wasn't sure what Mrs. Blacke wanted her to do. "D'ye know, Ellie's quit 'er old job and she works for a new employer now. Apparently, it's the lady who owns the bookshop at --- street." Anne had no idea that she had encountered the lady that very afternoon. "I've 'eard she's been real kind to Ellie and 'as bought 'er nice clothes."
She stopped herself. Her father had said it was a disgrace and Anne couldn't understand why. But she suddenly worried that Mrs. Blacke would feel the same way.
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"One of the Russell girls? Workin' in a shop? Good fer 'er. That's an 'onest job. As for the dresses, some employers like staff to wear nice clothes." Lottie smiled at Anne as she pottered, "Are ye 'intin' fer a new dress yerself?"
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So Mrs. Blacke didn't think it bad? Anne was almost disappointed about it, for it was easier to stomach Ellie's good fortune without jealousy if she could frown upon it.
She didn't have long to dwell upon it however, for Mrs. Blacke's next words had her blush. "Oh no. No, not at all. Please don't think that, Mrs. Blacke," she answered quickly. "I'm quite content and grateful for what I have." The last thing she needed was Mrs. Blacke to think she was begging, the way her father had accused her of before.
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Lottie shrugged. "If you say so, dear" Even if Anne wanted a new dress, Lottie knew Ben wouldn't allow it, proud as he was. He had been angry when Lottie bought Anne a new corset.
A new dress... that thought was filed away.
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Mrs. Blacke did not seem quite convinced. Anne was embarrassed. She had not been meaning to hint at getting anything and she didn't want Mrs. Blacke to think she had been and think her a beggar or greedy. "What can I do?" she said, eager to have a task to direct her attention to.
She leaned her hands on the table, for everything turned dark for a second and she felt dizzy.
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Flotsam of potato and pork began to bob and roll on an brown broth sea, wavecaps of gravy crested with every turn of her spoon. Lottie had only looked away from the stove for a moment, looking back at her young guest, a mother never stopped mothering. The spoon clanked potside like the mast of a sinking ship.
"Anne dear, what wrong?"
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The dizziness slowly faded. Anne had instinctively closed her eyes, but opened them again when she heard to spoon clank and Mrs. Blacke addressed her. The woman had noticed. "Oh, nowt to worry about, Mrs. Blacke. Just a dizzy spell," she said, a little embarrassed. "They 'appen sometimes, but they always go away."
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Lottie left the stove and stepped to Anne's side. With the practiced hand that came from raising four children, she used hers to see if Anne were burning up .
"There's no fever." She said authoritatively. Then she remembered Anne wasn't her child, so she should leave her be. "Have ye seen a doctor?"
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"No, Mrs. Blacke," she said sheepishly. "Our Maggie says it's normal, she gets those spells as well sometimes."
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