It was August 1788, and the Elliots made plans to visit the seaside resort of Weymouth for a month. Sir Walter had not wanted to go; he prized his appearance almost as much as his baronetcy, and did not want to return to Kellynch Hall with wrinkles and freckles from the summer sun and salty sea air. Lady Elliot, however, was insistent. She loved being by the water, and they had never been to the sea together. When she told Sir Walter that the Duke of Gloucester had commissioned his own house in Weymouth eight years earlier, her husband was sufficiently impressed and relented, on the condition that he did not have to accompany his wife to the beach during the day or, heaven forbid, mingle with the lower classes at the theatre at night. Since her good friend Lady Russell was to go with them and keep her company, Lady Elliot happily agreed.

The day after their arrival, Lady Elliot and Lady Russell had finished sea-bathing and were standing along the beach with Elizabeth, Anne, and the nursery-maid, Maria. The children were placed in the sand to play, and Anne was immediately taken by the beach and the water. She stared at the waves, mesmerised as they crashed over and over again on the shore. She grabbed at the sand with her hands, giggling as she delighted in the unusual feel of the small grains running through her fingers. The sound of sea birds drew her gaze upward, and she watched them with wonder as they circled in the sky and dipped into the water, searching for their next meal.

Elizabeth, however, was not captivated at all. She was very much like her father and gave her best toddler glare as the sun beat down on her face and the warm sand made its way quite alarmingly between her toes and stuck to her skin. She was seriously displeased and, as she was wont to do back at home, took her anger out on the one person who was smaller than her. She therefore grabbed a handful of sand and threw it into her baby sister's face.

Anne blinked from the shock of the sand in her eyes, then immediately began to cry. Maria looked on in horror, certain that Lady Elliot would dismiss her on the spot. She was in luck, however; her employment, like the Sultaness Scheherazade's head, would live another day. Lady Elliot calmly turned to her and said, "Maria, I believe Elizabeth would prefer to be indoors. Please bring her back to our lodgings." Maria nodded and quickly picked Elizabeth up before more damage could be inflicted.

"I shall go with them," Lady Russell said to her friend, feeling tired from the morning's exertions. She and Maria took leave as Lady Elliot sat down in the sand and held Anne, still crying, in her arms.

A boy nearby, slightly older than Elizabeth, tugged at his mother's dress. "Mamma, look at that baby, she is crying."

"Yes dear, babies cry from time to time," his mother said gently.

"I saw her sister throw sand at her. That was not nice," he declared firmly.

His mother was used to his frankness. "You are right, but her mother is soothing her now; she will be better soon."

Lady Elliot was trying everything to calm Anne - bouncing her up and down, rubbing her back, whispering in her ear - but Anne's screams only seemed to get louder. Her little arms flailed in the air and tears streamed from her eyes. The boy walked over. His mother was horrified at her son's forwardness and started to say something, but Lady Elliot indicated that she did not mind. He had a toy ship in his hand and held it out to Anne.

"Do you want to see my ship?" he asked Anne excitedly. "I made it all by myself! One day, I will command a real ship and sail it around the world."

To Lady Elliot's surprise, Anne's crying slowed down; she was fascinated by the makeshift toy. It was crude, with a simple wood block for the hull, a short stick inserted into a hole as the mast, and a muslin rag tied on for a sail. Anne reached out to touch the soft fabric and smiled.

"Look mamma, she likes my ship!" The boy laughed joyfully; he had a natural charm and ease about him.

Lady Elliot and the other woman exchanged warm smiles. Lady Elliot sensed that if they had been neighbors in Somersetshire, they might have been great friends.

"I call her the Valiant," the boy said. "She is a third rate ship of the line with 74 guns."

"That is quite impressive," Lady Elliot replied, amazed at his knowledge of the navy.

The boy's mother felt they had intruded long enough and motioned that it was time to go. Anne was still holding the ship and protested as Lady Elliot pulled it away to return it to the boy.

"She can keep the Valiant," he said to Lady Elliot. "I will make myself another ship - a first rate with 100 guns!"

Anne cooed happily as her mother gave her the ship again. "And whom do we have the honour of thanking?" Lady Elliot asked.

The boy stood up straight and gave his best Royal Navy salute with his invisible uniform.

"Frederick Wentworth, ma'am."

"Thank you very much, Captain Wentworth," Lady Elliot said earnestly. His eyes widened with delight and he gave her a big smile.

Lady Elliot watched as he turned around and walked away from the beach with his mother. Before they were out of sight, Frederick turned back one last time, giving her another smile and a wave.