"I should take it as God's answer, dearie, you are to extend your trade. And, bless me, why shouldn't you give the young fellow a chance? God gives us plenty! But don't start him with a rope round his neck."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't show any mistrust, that is all." Afterwards she said to herself, "Reynolds would call that another 'whim' if he knew about it. She wouldn't have engaged that young fellow as quickly as this before her trouble came, not she; it's just wonderful how trouble softens the heart. It's only them that's received mercy which show mercy."
The young fellow's name was Jones—D. Jones—the "D." standing for David. Neighbour Bessie came in just afterwards on what she called her ginger-beer cork visits—a pop and go visit, and, of course, she was told of the new "hand" and the new scheme—but no hint as to the young man's past was given.
"D. Jones," she exclaimed, clapping her hands, "makes me think of an old man in America my aunt knew, who had once been a soldier; he was 'D. Jones,' but you'd never guess what the 'D.' stood for, that you never would, but it is what I shall call your Mr. Jones."
"Well, tell us what it was, Miss Smarty, or I'll shake you," said Nanna, trying to look fierce.
"It's what I wish somebody would call me; it was 'Darling Jones.' It's a fact; I'm not making it up. Isn't it lovely! Just fancy, if my name was 'Darling,' what a fix mother would be in! She couldn't scold me and call me 'Darling' at the same time, now could she? Wouldn't it be rich to hear her call out 'Darling, you are a wretched girl!' It would be scrumptious, just!"
"You're a naughty darling, that's what you are," said Mrs. Colston, solemnly shaking her head. "It's a pity you can't put all your fun and energy to some good purpose."
"Well, I shall always call your Jones 'Darling,' you see if I don't."
That same evening Reynolds was informed that the extension scheme was to be tried at once.