It was Ben at the door. His rage had made way for fear when Anne had gone missing, but now that he knew where she was, and that she refused to come home, and worse, that Mrs. Blacke was meddling, he was angry all over. He knocked again.

Lottie drew herself to her full height and set her features to grim and serious. Then she opened the door, using her width to block it.

Of course it was Lottie who answered and not her husband. The defiance in her face stirred up Ben's own. "I've come to fetch Anne," he announced unnecessarily.

"Aye, Ben, she's ere. What was said earlier was between ye and me, leave Anne alone. I'll not 'ave ye raise a harsh hand or word to her."

"I told ye to leave me daughter alone. Anne!" he shouted into the house.

"I think she's 'elping my Kate with her stitches. Do ye want to come in and wait?" Lottie answered. If she painted a picture of a helpful daughter, perhaps that would soothe him. Then she could propose her idea.

"No, she's comin' 'ome now. She knows bloody well I wanted 'er 'ome. I've been all over town lookin' fer 'er. And she's not to come 'ere anymore." For Ben's resentment towards Lottie had not lessened. "Anne! Come 'ere this instance!" He shouted again.

"Do ye even hear yerself, Ben? It's no wonder she doesn't want to rush 'ome."

Ben could have dealt with Lottie shouting better. He would just have shouted back - something he was quite trained in. "Just stay out of it, Lottie. Ye shouldn't go meddlin' in other people's families like that," he said in a quieter tone.

"Ben, it didnae have te be like this." Lottie answered quietly but firmly "How long 'ave we known each other? Twenty year? I helped yer Hannah bathe Alice and Anne both. I didnae intend to meddle. Anne sought me out because... because she needs a mother. Yer Hannah not being 'ere any longer. There's nowt wrong in that."