The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
Ruth was not surprised when she saw him come in alone; it was the usual thing since Easton had become so friendly with Crass. She made no reference to his absence, but Slyme noticed with secret chagrin that she was annoyed and disappointed. She was just finishing scrubbing the kitchen floor and little Freddie was sitting up in a baby's high chair that had a little shelf or table fixed in front of it. To keep him amused while she did her work Ruth had given him a piece of bread and raspberry jam which the child had rubbed all over his face and into his scalp, and he now looked as if he had been in a fight or a railway accident.
Freddie hailed the arrival of Slyme with enthusiasm, being so overcome with emotion that he began to shed tears, and was only pacified when the man gave him the jar of sweets and took him out of the chair.
Slyme's presence in the house had not proved so irksome as Easton and Ruth had expected. Indeed, at first, he made a point of retiring to his own room after tea every evening, until they invited him to stay downstairs in the kitchen. Nearly every Wednesday and Saturday he went to a meeting, or an open-air preaching, when the weather permitted, for he was one of a little zealous band of people connected with the Shining Light Chapel who carried on the 'open-air' work all the year round. After awhile the Eastons not only became reconciled to his presence in the house but were even glad of it. Ruth especially would often have been very lonely if he had not been there, for it had lately become Easton's custom to spend a few evenings every week with Crass at the 'Cricketers.'
When at home Slyme passed his time playing a mandoline or making fretwork photo frames. Ruth had the baby's photograph taken a few weeks after Slyme came, and the frame he made for it was now one of the ornaments of the sitting-room. The instinctive, unreasoning aversion she had at first felt for him had in a measure passed away. He did her so many little services that she found it impossible to altogether dislike him. At first, she used to address him as 'Mr,' but after a time she fell naturally into Easton's practice of calling him by his Christian name.
As for the baby, he made no secret of his affection for the lodger, who nursed and played with him for hours at a stretch.
'I'll serve your dinner now, Alf,' said Ruth, when she had
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