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."

Anne worried that she had offended Mrs. Blacke in refusing the gift, but the woman jumped right back in, promising to give her something else. 'Sort-of-daughter', she said. A wave of warmth and gratitude washed over her. "Ye really think of me as yer daughter?"

It didn't matter that it wasn't the first time Mrs. Blacke had said something of the sort. She needed to hear it again.

"I do." Lottie said. That wrinkled old haddock Ben could rage like a northern gale at her. "I'd 'ave ye stay with us if ye could." The water made a pleasing sound as it gushed from kettle to pot.

"I know I'm not yer real mam, but it'd do me eart good if ye thought of me like." Lottie said. Conscious that poor Anne had been pushed from piler to post and roundly ignored at home, she might not jump at the chance of a loving stable family "no rush, dear. Just think about it " Lottie so wanted her to jump at it.

Anne felt a lump in her throat and she gave Mrs. Blacke a watery smile. It was at once hard to believe and heart-warming that someone wanted to be her mother, and wanted to look after her. She so often wished she still had a mother.

"Oh, but I do, Mrs. Blacke! I mean, not like me real mum. Nobody could ever... I miss her," - that lump brew bigger - "still. But ye've been like a mother to me and I wish I could stay 'ere as yer daughter."

Lottie's heart fluttered with joy as Anne did indeed jump at the chance to join her family. The tea could wait. She touched her hand. "Yer always 'ave a 'ome 'ere with us Anne." She added "with Joe and John and brothers and Ruth an Kate as sisters."

Anne smiled sadly and stepped closer. "Thank you, Mrs. Blacke. Ye're so kind to me. It's... it's the o-, the big comfort in my life. Often I feel... I feel rather alone." Her voice had gone up as she fought back the urge to cry all over. "But I don't feel alone when I'm 'ere."

"Good." Lottie answered in that firm Yorksire way that underscored the finality of the matter. It did pain her so that Anne feared to love and be loved. But with enough mothering from Lottie, maybe that would change. She'd have good solid kids if it killed her.

"Let's go 'unt Fer treasure." Lottie secured the stove with a clang and heading back upstairs. She didn't wait for Anne to follow.

Throwing the doors of the wardrobe open, there were clothes that were out of season and Bill's boring coats,

"See anything ye like?" She asked.

Anne followed Mrs. Blacke upstairs. She stretched her neck to have a look into the wardrobe, but she did not know what to answer. It felt weird to just claim a random item belonging to the Blackes as her own. "Oh... I... don't know. I don't need anythin', Mrs. Blacke. I have three dresses now, and several undergarments, and the corset ye gave me. And I got me shawl to cover me head durin' t' week and a nice boater or Sundays. And I recently got new boots too."

"Yer da takin' care of ye - ?" Lottie asked. The word finally was left unspoken. Though in truth, she was probably getting hand-me-down clothes from older sisters Rose or Maggie. "Go on, it's okay." Lottie prodded gently. She sensed Anne needed - well - a lot of coaxing to accept other's charity and generosity. Plus, it would make Lottie like she was actually doing something to care for this child.

Those words stung. It was unfair! Mrs. Blacke had just seen him on a bad day! "'e does!" she was quick to defend. "'e tries! 'e just didn't know about t' corset because I didn't tell 'im! 'e would 'ave made sure I had summat decent." Her voice was high and shaky as she fought against the tears that threatened to break out once again. She opened her mouth to say something about the last scene Mrs. Blacke had witnessed when Anne was in her house last time - to explain it - but she felt too upset and humiliated before Mrs. Blacke when she merely thought back of it, and so she closed her mouth again. Her left hand reached across her stomach to grab her right arm, and she stood there, shoulders shrunk, hugging herself and unable to let her eyes meet Mrs. Blacke's "I don't know what to pick," she said in a small voice.