Ruth in the background watched the two men. It was as though she were weighing them in the balance. There was a touch of masterful tenderness about Ern's handling of his damaged friend that surprised and pleased her. Joe made an effort to get up. "A'd best be shiftin," he said. "Never!" cried Ern, authoritatively. "You'll bide the night along o us. She'll make you a bed on the couch here." "Nay," said Ruth. "You'll sleep in the bed along o Ernie." Joe eyed her. "Where'll you sleep then?" he asked. "In the spare room," Ruth answered, winking at Ernie. There was no spare room; but she made up a shake-down for herself on the settle in the kitchen. Ernie, after packing away the visitor upstairs, came down to help her. It also gave him an opportunity to ventilate his grievance. "One thing. It won't make much difference to me," he said. "Your own fault," Ruth answered remorselessly. "And you aren't the only one, though I know you think you are. Men do ... We'd be out in the street now, the lot of us, only for Joe telling lies for you." Next morning she took her visitor breakfast in bed and kept him there till Mr. Trupp had come, who told Joe he must not return to work for a week. The engineer got up that afternoon and was sitting in the kitchen still rather shaky, when Alf, who had not fulfilled his threat and given Ruth notice, called for the rent. Ruth greeted him with unusual friendliness. "Come in, won't you?" she said--"while I get the money." Alf, who in some respects was simple almost as Ernie, entered the trap to find Joe, huddled in a chair and glowering murder at him. He tried to withdraw, but Ruth stood between him and the door, twice his size, and with glittering eyes. "There's a friend of yours," she said. "Saw him last night, at the meeting, didn't you?--I thart you'd be glad to meet him." Alf quaked. "Been in the wars then?" he said shakily. "What d'you know about it?" rumbled Joe. "I don't know nothin," answered Alf sharply, almost shrilly. Just then little Alice entered. Alf took advantage of her entrance to establish his line of retreat. Once set in the door with a clear run for the open his courage returned to him. "And what may be your name?" he asked the child with deliberate insolence. "Alice Caspar," she answered, staring wide-eyed. Alf sneered. "That it ain't--I know," he said, and went out without his rent, and laughing horribly. Little Alice ran out again. "What's he mean?" asked Joe. Ruth regarded him with wary curiosity. "Didn't Ern never tell you then?" she asked. "Never!" said Joe. Ruth was thoughtful. That was nice of Ern--like Ern--the gentleman in him coming out. That night she softened to him. He noticed it in a flash and approached her--only to be repulsed abruptly. "No," she said. "I don't care about you no more. You've lost me. That's where it is." "O, I beg pardon," answered Ernie, quivering. "I thart we was married."