Jeremy was full of his prospects. He always expatiated over any new scheme and saw manifold possibilities.
"Of course I'm the last to build castles in the air, or anything like that," he declared, "but, all the same, if only Jacob can lend a hand here with the house and a trap and a horse, he certainly won't regret it. An energetic man like me, with a good horse, should be able to do far greater rounds than poor Miss Marydrew, and I'd work up a connection among the farms for miles and miles round. Then, luckily Jane is used to a shop, and in the market she would do wonders and get all Miss Marydrew's old custom with a lot added. In course of time—probably a very short time—I should pay Jacob's kindness back with large interest, you may be certain. In fact the idea hasn't a weak spot that I can see."
"There's got to be a new huckster for certain," said Jane. "It's not man's work as a rule; but I've known men to do it for their wives."
"It's man's work the way I shall do it," promised Jeremy. "And I shouldn't wonder if I couldn't beat up a good few customers in Plymouth myself when they hear of this. I made a lot of nice friends there."
"Uncle Lawrence might come to you," suggested Margery. She referred to her mother's brother, Mr. Lawrence Pulleyblank, an owner of fishing trawlers and a man after his sister's own heart.
Jeremy's face fell.
"I'm sorry to say it, but Uncle Lawrence doesn't like me very much. You see he got me that last billet, that failed through no fault of mine; and after he found I was giving up and coming home, he said some strong things. But you are all the world to Uncle Lawrence, Margery, and when he hears of this new and much more important step I'm taking, no doubt, if you dropped a word, he'd buy his butter and eggs and so on off me and Jane."
"I'm sorry you fell out with him," said Margery.
"I didn't—I didn't," answered her brother. "I don't fall out with anybody. It was his natural disappointment that I didn't shine in the artificial manure works. He'll always say it was because I was weak and couldn't stand the smells. He hasn't got a nose himself, else he wouldn't live on the Barbican. But I respect him very much and I hope he'll live to respect me. He's looking forward to your visit as usual."
Lawrence Pulleyblank, an old bachelor, regarded Margery as his special joy. She visited him every year, and always took a child with her.