Anne was uncomfortable with the notion of having to be measured again, but still she did catch what was said. She did not correct the woman and instead blushed with a strange kind of satisfaction in the mistake. For today at least, she'd like to pretend that she was here with her mam. "That's alright..." she said, consciously neglecting to add 'Mrs. Blacke', to keep the fantasy going a little longer.

The woman led her up on a stool and took her measurements. "Right. I think I have something I can mend to yer size, luv. Plain black you said?"

Anne nodded and the woman disappeared in the back. Anne stepped down and made her way over to Mrs. Blacke for support in this new environment. She did not usually have her clothes tailor-made, but bought second hands, and only when really necessary.

Lottie's eyes ran over the high wooden shelves segmented into individual cubbies. Each cubbie held new clothes piled in neat stacks. Towards the back of the shop, another assistant was wordlessly refilling a cubbie with new items of clothing. There were also large bolts of fabric in a corner, presumably for those ladies who could afford to have clothes made to the latest styles. All of this created a pleasing riot of colour and pattern that was fun to look at. Anne returned to Lottie's side. Without thinking, the older woman reached out and gently squeezed Anne's furthest shoulder in support.

Anne looked up at Mrs. Blacke and smiled shyly. "She thinks you're my mam..." she whispered.

Lottie looked down at Anne's revelation with a look of mild surprise which quickly turned into bemusement. She could see how such a connection could be made: the age gap, the body language between the two women, their whole reason for being in the shop An honest mistake, but she saw the funny side of it. Lottie was also reminded of the sad reality behind the illusion.

"She's made a mistake, but it's a nice thought, all the same." Lottie answered her young charge.

She wanted to think she was a good mother to her actual daughter Kate. Would Hannah Ward approve of her actions over the last few days? That question couldn't really be answered, but Lottie rather fancied she would. She was just being a guiding influence to her old friend's child. There was no harm in that, was there?

Anne nodded and smiled.

"Right, sweetie, let's try this. It will be a little too long, probably, but we can work with that." She handed Anne a black dress and gestured towards the fitting rooms. Anne took it, changed, and returned wearing a dress that touched the floor and was a little loose at the top.

Lottie smiled at Anne in her new outfit. It very obviously didn't fit her in multiple places, but their helper would soon take of that. Lottie though smiled at what it represented, a young girl's first step on her own path as a grown up woman.

"Once it fits, you'll look very smart, Anne."

Anne felt very pleased with herself and barely knew how to hide it. She looked down but her smile was still visible. "Thank you, Mrs. Blacke," she said.

Anne's smile was infectious and Lottie was soon smiling herself. "Yer welcome, Anne."

Lottie was again amazed how much this little experience had filled her with joy. It didn't matter that Anne was not one of her own, it just felt right.

Anne was happier than she had been in a long time.

And then it all went horribly wrong: "Oh, darling, what are ye wearin' underneath?" exclaimed the woman who was checking where to amend the dress. "That doesn't flatter ye at all. Is that a child's corset?"

Anne's neck and cheeks turned redder than her hair. The woman probably meant no harm, but the teenager felt like she was being humiliated in front of the entire shop, and more importantly, in front of Mrs. Blacke. Of course she knew that her corset didn't fit her well anymore. It hadn't for at least two years and it was falling apart, no matter how often she mended it. But all this time she had felt too embarrassed to ask her father for money to buy a corset better fitted to her developing body. "N-no, ma'm, it's just old..." she said in a small voice, mortified, and feeling like she was about to drop down from the stool the lady had placed her on.

Lottie was close enough to hear the conversation between the assistant and Anne and she was once again moved with pity for the poor girl. She couldn't fault Anne not asking her father. What did he know about corsets? But Lottie could think uncharitable thoughts about the other Ward women who had left Anne to fend for herself.

"Oh Anne, I'm sorry. Ye should have said." Lottie began trying to offer sympathy in the moment. "Right. This won't do." the older woman announced, deciding to give a damn about the child. "How much fer one that would fit her properly?"