Lottie sighed, the poor dear obviously thought so little of herself that she refused the offer of a gift. It wasn't like Bill, Joe, or John were clamoring for ownership of it.

"Alright, then." She put the brush aside. The kettle whistled before she could say more, and Lottie attended to the vital business of tea. "While this steeps, let's go upstairs, and 'ave a poke about the wardrobe, I'm sure I've got a bonnet or shawl you can 'ave instead. I'll not 'ave no sort-of-daughter of mine poorly turned out."