The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
As he wished her good-night, the old woman, looking at him, could not help observing that he appeared very frail and ill: his face was thin and pale, and his eyes were unnaturally bright.
Possibly the Lord in His infinite loving kindness and mercy was chastening this unhappy castaway in order that He might bring him to Himself. After all, he was not altogether bad: it was certainly very thoughtful of him to come all this way to let her husband know about that job. She observed that he had no overcoat, and the storm was still raging fiercely outside, furious gusts of wind frequently striking the house and shaking it to its very foundations.
The natural kindliness of her character asserted itself; her better feelings were aroused, triumphing momentarily over the bigotry of her religious opinions.
'Why, you ain't got no overcoat!' she exclaimed. 'You'll be soaked goin' 'ome in this rain.' Then turning to her husband she continued: 'There's that old one of yours; you might lend him that; it would be better than nothing.'
But Owen would not hear of this. He thought, as he became very conscious of the clamminess of his saturated clothing, that he could not get much wetter than he already was. Linden accompanied him as far as the front door, and Owen once more set out on his way homeward through the storm that howled around like a wild beast hungry for its prey.
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