peculiar and agreeable effect on himself, and that she had promised him
tea. He was glad that he had paid her the homage of his best necktie.

Although the month was July, Ruth wore a kind of shawl over the
tea-gown. It was not a shawl, Denry noted; it was merely about two yards
of very thin muslin. He puzzled himself as to its purpose. It could not
be for warmth, for it would not have helped to melt an icicle. Could it
be meant to fulfil the same function as muslin in a confectioner's shop?
She was pale. Her voice was weak and had an imploring quality.

She led him, not into the inhospitable wooden academy, but into a very
small room which, like herself, was dressed in muslin and bows of
ribbon. Photographs of amiable men and women decorated the pinkish-green
walls. The mantelpiece was concealed in drapery as though it had been a
sin. A writing-desk as green as a leaf stood carelessly in one corner;
on the desk a vase containing some Cape gooseberries. In the middle of
the room a small table, on the table a spirit-lamp in full blast, and on
the lamp a kettle practising scales; a tray occupied the remainder of
the table. There were two easy chairs; Ruth sank delicately into one,
and Denry took the other with precautions.

He was nervous. Nothing equals muslin for imparting nervousness to the
naïve. But he felt pleased.

"Not much of the Widow Hullins touch about this!" he reflected
privately.

And he wished that all rent-collecting might be done with such ease, and
amid such surroundings, as this particular piece of rent-collecting. He
saw what a fine thing it was to be a free man, under orders from nobody;