Anne was surprised. Not much money? Poor Miss Mable. Had her family fallen on hard times before her parents died? Or had an evil relative taken all the money and left the poor orphans penniless? Anne reached out and touched Mable's arm briefly. "Ye mustn't be ashamed of bein' poor, Miss Mable, although I'm sure it's harder when ye ain't used to it. But there's no shame in it, if ye didn't cause it by bad habits. I won't tell anyone, but if its a comfort, me family ain't rich either, and we've had times where we've been very anxious about whether we'd 'ave enough to stay afloat. Ye needn't be embarrassed."

Mable couldn't hide her surprise when Anne began comforting her.  Not used to it?  Oh, what had Mable done to give this girl the impression she had ever been rich in her life?  Laughing, Mable took the hand that had touched her arm and held it.

"Miss Anne, I'm not ashamed of being poor, I've been poor my whole life!  It's my brother who feels guilty being in people's debt, that's why he doesn't want me to tell anyone, but - oh, I'm sorry for misleading you.  Did I tell you I was raised on a farm?  I've slept in grass more times than I've slept in a bed, you know."

"You...?" Anne blushed again and pulled her hand back, more for shock than anything else. Then she burst into embarrassed giggles. She did not know how she had come to this misunderstanding, but she was actually relieved to find that the other girl was of her own station. It would be so much easier to talk to her.

"Oh.... Oh you did say..." she laughed nervously. "But you said it was a sort of farm... and with the traveling. Oh and Mable is such an elegant name!" She gave the other girl a bashful look. Then she reached out and put her hand on Mable's arm again. "Then while you are in Whitby, let's be friends!"

Friends!  Friends, Anne said, and - elegant!  Was Mable's name very elegant?  She had never thought about it much before, except when her brother insisted on changing his own, but she was so happy to know that Anne liked it enough to call it elegant.

"Yes, Miss Anne, I would love to be your friend!"  Again, Mable took the girls hand and shook it excitedly.  "And just so you know, Anne is a very pretty name too, I think it's perfect for a pretty girl like you.  Oh, please excuse me, I'm very glad you want to be my friend!"

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.

"I think you're gorgeous," Mable insisted easily and honestly, watching Anne's face color yet again.  She hadn't known the girl for very long at all, but she could name at least a hundred good things about her already, probably.  Anne was so sweet, Mable couldn't imagine anyone turning down her offer to be friends.

"Oh, very smart too, you're right about that.  Just Anne then."  And she would be just Mable.  Only right for friends to be familiar with each other enough to use their names.

Happily, Mable continued down the windy beach in search of driftwood for Anne.  "Tell me more about you, Anne!  Have you liked growing up in Whitby?  Would you ever like to travel one day?  What do you do for fun?  May I join you for fun one day soon?"

Anne glowed and looked proud, before turning her eyes down and trying to hide a grin. She hooked her arm with Mable's and continued to walk across the beach. She wasn't looking for driftwood that hard anymore. She was too fascinated with her new friend. Mable was so chatty. She knew all the questions to ask, whereas Anne usually struggled to keep a conversation going. She even asked them all at the same time, rather overwhelming Anne.

"I suppose I did... I wouldn't really know what to compare it to. I haven't done much travelin' like you. I.. I sometimes like to think about travelin' somewhere else and living there and making me own money and you know... be independent. I'd like to be able to look after me sister... and me family if owt goes wrong. But... well, it won't actually..." That was too painful to say out loud. Too definitive. She had to believe that she could help Alice. She had to believe that there was more to life, even if she pretended she did not actually believe that or desire that. Mable was probably the first she had even shared that dream with. She didn't know why. But it was too early to crush it so definitively.

"Well, and there ain't much time for playin' these days. Me sisters all got married and me mother's dead, so I have to do all the women's work. But... well... I have a scrapbook. I'll show it to you one day. And sometimes me friend Kate will lend me their magazines. I like to read the stories. Uhm. I like to..." She seemed embarrassed and hesitated. "You'll laugh..."

Mable beamed as Anne took her arm and listened closely as she spoke, her head turning between her new friends face and the beach every few moments.  She smiled when Anne spoke about independence, but not condescendingly.  It wasn't unusual for girls to want to do things for themselves, she thought.  But it was difficult.  Still, Mable believed Anne could do it if she was very determined.

"A scrap book?" she asked before Anne cut herself off, and then jostled her lightly by they're linked arms.  "What!  Oh, please tell me!  I promise I won't laugh, M - Anne!  I won't even think it's funny a bit at all.  And I wont tell anyone neither, I'm a fantastic secret keeper, please?"

"Well," said Anne, still a bit awkward. The jostle had loosened her a little. She liked Mable. Mable seemed like the kind of person people just had to befriend and tell their secrets to. Anne wanted to.

"Well, I like to walk around and pretend things. Like pretend that... that I'm not in Whitby, but in a foreign country on an adventure and..." She hesitated once more. "And the 199 steps are not... well not that, but Mont Blanc, for example. Or, well, sometimes when I'm going to the harbour to meet the boats returning or when return home with the fishing supplies, I pretend I'm a nurse, real smart and educated, and I'm going to treat the wounded in battle, or visit the cottages of the poor to help the sick." She gave Mable a look between hope and fear. "I know I'm too old for make-belief," she quickly said before Mable could, "but it just makes the days a little more interesting."

Mable's eyes widened in delight as Anne spoke about her pretend games, and all the fascinating things she thought about.  Travelling in far away places wasn't all that far from what Mable would pretend herself, though the younger girl's scenarios where a bit more fantastical than her new friends.

"Oh, Anne, you're not too old for make-believe at all!" Mable reassured.  "My brother plays pretend with me sometimes when I'm very bored, and he's practically a man.  We pretend to be fairies though, sometimes animals.  But being an educated nurse is so much more interesting!  Would you like to be one in real life one day?  Is that how you'd like to make your money one day?"

She hadn't known Anne for very long, but she did not seem stupid.  Mable thought she could be a very smart nurse if she wanted to.

"A travelling nurse too!  I've not a clue what Mont Black is, but I'm sure it's beautiful.  Where is it?  What a fun game, Anne, do you think we could play some time together?"