Anne beamed bright when Mable agreed to be her friend. Oh, she didn't have many friends. Only two really. And so her circle had just expanded significantly with Mable.

"You really think I'm pretty?" she asked, blushing. She felt as embarrassed as she felt flattered. She often felt rather ugly, and other girls confirmed it, sometimes directly, and sometimes in more subtle ways that hurt all the more. And as for her name, well, it was so common. Just plain Anne - a suitable name for an insignificant fisherlass.

"Well, I'm glad to be your friend too! Say, we must stop calling each other, Miss. That's so very formal." And awkward, given the fact that Anne had only used it based on a misunderstanding.