Was she really used to that? Did they allow her to run around like a wild young boy in the States? Wealthy young ladies in Whitby would certainly not be permitted to do such a thing. Well, except Miss Pearl - or Mrs. Blacke now, if the gossip was true. But she was a bit odd.

Anne walked along the beach slowly, listening to Miss Mable. She was more and more puzzled by the young girl's words. Why would she need a job? Or did she just mean an occupation? Something to keep her busy, like a charity? She knew some of the girls her age who didn't have to work were part of such all sorts of charities and other clubs. Needing a tutor made more sense. But then who was this father Brennan? And why was he paying for them? And where were their parents?

"I... I'm afraid I don't know 'im, Miss. We're Methodist," she explained. She glanced at Mable's face, considering whether it was appropriate to ask the question. "If... it's not impertinent to ask, Miss... are yer parents not with ye? It's a long way to travel without a guardian... Not... Not that it is my place to criticize the decision, Miss!" She blushed yet again. "I just mean... I didn't mean... I just wondered.... Sorry." That last word was uttered so quietly it was probably lost in the wind.