Ellie's mouth hung open like one of these freshly caught fish. She didn't want to be a fisherman's wife, like her own mother. Not that she meant ill to her or the countless others who chose that, but it wasn't for her. The wife of a postman, policeman, publican, that would be better, but not a fisherwife. Unsteady income, hearth and home smelling of salt air and fish slop. For now, Ellie just wanted a new employer. Maybe one day she'd be a ladies maid. Then she could worry about courting boys.

"Alright."