"What for?" demanded Grice, stolidly and with no sign of surprise. "What for, now?"
"I'll tell you," answered Jeckie, gaining in courage. "I want to pay off every penny he owes. Then I'll be master! I shall have him under my thumb, and I'll make him do. I'll see to every penny that comes in and goes out; and you mark my words, Mr. Grice, I can make that farm pay! If you'll lend me what I want I'll pay you back in three years, and it'll be then a good going concern. I know what I'm saying."
"In less nor three years you and my son Albert'll be wed," remarked Grice.
"I can keep an eye on it, and on my father and Rushie when we are wed," retorted Jeckie.
"And there's another thing," said Grice. "When I gave my consent to your weddin' my son, it were an agreed thing between me an' Farnish, a bargain, that you should have five hundred pound from him as a portion. Where's that?"
Jeckie gave him a swift meaning look.
"I might have yet, if I took hold o' things," she answered. "But it 'ud be me 'at would find it, Mr. Grice. My father—Lord bless you—he'd never find five hundred pence! But—trust me!"
Grice carved himself some more cold beef, and as he seemed to be considering her proposal, Jeckie resumed her arguments.
"There'll be a good bit of money to come in this back-end," she said. "And if we'd more cows, as I'd have, we should do better. And pigs—I'd go in for pigs. Let me only clear off what debt he's got into, and——"
Grice suddenly laughed quietly, and, seizing his tankard, looked knowingly at her as he lifted it to his lips.