That perplexed her even more. She didn't look like she had the money to just decide to travel. But perhaps she was wearing old clothes not to stain her good frocks while playing at the beach. That, or she and her brother were vagrants. More likely, though why they should bother coming so far was a mystery to her.

"How d'y- oh, erm... I'm collecting driftwood." She spoke louder than she was used to, to be heard over the wind. "It's free fuel, ye see. Not as good as coal, but..." She blushed a little again. If the other girl was indeed actually rich, she felt embarrassed to admit that 'beggars can't be choosers'. "How..." did they manage to travel? "... do you like Whitby, Mi- Mable?" Was she rich? Should she call her Miss?