"Mr. Bradingham," said Jeckie, "I want to sell my business as it stands. I want to devote all my time to yon colliery. I've made lots o' money out of the grocery trade, and lots more out o' what I made in that way, but that's naught to what I'm going to make out o' coal. So--I must sell. Will you buy?--as it stands--stock, goodwill, book debts (all sound, you may be sure, else there wouldn't be any!), vans, carts, everything? I'd rather sell to you than to anybody, 'cause you'll carry it on as I did. You can make a branch of this business of yours, or you can keep up the old name--whichever seems best to you." Bradingham looked silently at his visitor for what seemed to her a long time. "That's what you really want, then?" he said at last. "To concentrate on your new venture." "I don't believe in running two businesses," answered Jeckie. "I'm beginning to feel--I do feel!--that it's got to be one or t'other. And--it's going to be coal!" "You've sunk a lot in that pit, already?" he remarked. "Aye--and more than a lot!" responded Jeckie. "But it's naught to what I mean to pull out of it!" Bradingham continued to watch his visitor for a minute or two and she saw that he was thinking and calculating. "I've no objection to buying your business," he said at last. "Look here--I'll drive out to Savilestowe this afternoon, and you can show me everything, and the books, and so on, and then we'll talk. I'm due at the Mayor's parlour now. Three o'clock then." As Jeckie drove back to Savilestowe she remembered something. She remembered the day on which she had run down from Applecroft to get old George Grice's help, and how he had come up and found poverty and ruin. Now, another man was coming to see and value what she had created--he would find a splendid trade, a rich and flourishing business--all made by herself. But it must go. The pit was yawning for money--more money--still more money. And as in a vision, she saw sacks of gold, and wagon loads of silver, and bundles of scrip, and handfuls of banknotes all being hastened into the blackness of the shaft and disappearing there. It was as if Mammon, the ever-hungry, ever-demanding, sat at the foot, refusing to be appeased. CHAPTER VIII _The Commination Service_ At five o'clock that afternoon, by mutual agreement, Jeckie Farnish sold to John Bradingham the stock and goodwill of her grocery business, and a few days later she paid in another heavy cheque to the credit of Farnish and Grice, and, at the same date, secured the alteration in the deed of partnership which made matters straight between her and Lucilla. There was something of a grim desperation in Jeckie's face as she walked out of the solicitor's office whereat this transaction had been effected; she was feeling something that she had no desire to speak of. But Lucilla felt it, too, and said it.