Although perhaps he was not conscious of it, this desire arose solely from selfish motives.The money he earned seemed to melt away almost as soon as he received it; to his surprise he found that he was not nearly so well off in regard to personal comfort as he had been formerly, and the house seemed to grow more dreary and desolate as the wintry days dragged slowly by.Sometimes - when he had the money - he sought forgetfulness in the society of Crass and the other frequenters of the Cricketers, but somehow or other he could not take the same pleasure in the conversation of these people as formerly, when he had found it - as he now sometimes wondered to remember - so entertaining as to almost make him forget Ruth's existence.
One evening about three weeks before Christmas, as he and Owen were walking homewards together from work, Easton reverted for the first time to their former conversation.He spoke with a superior air: his manner and tone indicating that he thought he was behaving with great generosity.He would be willing to forgive her and have her back, he said, if she would come: but he would never be able to tolerate the child.Of course it might be sent to an orphanage or some similar institution, but he was afraid Ruth would never consent to that, and he knew that her stepmother would not take it.
`If you can persuade her to return to you, we'll take the child,' said Owen.
`Do you think your wife would be willing?'
`She has already suggested doing so.'
`To Ruth?'
`No: to me.We thought it a possible way for you, and my wife would like to have the child.'
`But would you be able to afford it?' said Easton.
`We should manage all right.'
`Of course,' said Easton, `if Slyme comes back he might agree to pay something for its keep.'
Owen flushed.
`I wouldn't take his money.'
After a long pause Easton continued: `Would you mind asking Mrs Owen to suggest it to Ruth?'
`If you like I'll get her to suggest it - as a message from you.'
`What I meant,' said Easton hesitatingly, `was that your wife might just suggest it - casual like - and advise her that it would be the best way, and then you could let me know what Ruth said.'
`No,' replied Owen, unable any longer to control his resentment of the other's manner, `as things stand now, if it were not for the other child, I should advise her to have nothing further to do with you.
You seem to think that you are acting a very generous part in being "willing" to have her back, but she's better off now than she was with you.I see no reason - except for the other child - why she should go back to you.As far as I understand it, you had a good wife and you ill-treated her.'
`I never ill-treated her! I never raised my hand to her - at least only once, and then I didn't hurt her.Does she say I ill-treated her.'
`Oh no: from what my wife tells me she only blames herself, but I'm drawing my own conclusions.You may not have struck her, but you did worse - you treated her with indifference and exposed her to temptation.What has happened is the natural result of your neglect and want of care for her.The responsibility for what has happened is mainly yours, but apparently you wish to pose now as being very generous and to "forgive her" - you're "willing" to take her back; but it seems to me that it would be more fitting that you should ask her to forgive you.'
Easton made no answer and after a long silence the other continued:
`I would not advise her to go back to you on such terms as you seem to think right, because if you became reconciled on such terms I don't think either of you could be happy.Your only chance of happiness is to realize that you have both done wrong; that each of you has something to forgive; to forgive and never speak of it again.'
Easton made no reply and a few minutes afterwards, their ways diverging, they wished each other `Good night'.
They were working for Rushton - painting the outside of a new conservatory at Mr Sweater's house, `The Cave'.This job was finished the next day and at four o'clock the boy brought the handcart, which they loaded with their ladders and other materials.They took these back to the yard and then, as it was Friday night, they went up to the front shop and handed in their time sheets.Afterwards, as they were about to separate, Easton again referred to the subject of their conversation of the previous evening.He had been very reserved and silent all day, scarcely uttering a word except when the work they had been engaged in made it necessary to do so, and there was now a sort of catch in his voice as he spoke.
`I've been thinking over what you said last night; it's quite true.
I've been a great deal to blame.I wrote to Ruth last night and admitted it to her.I'll take it as a favour if you and your wife will say what you can to help me get her back.'
Owen stretched out his hand and as the other took it, said: `You may rely on us both to do our best.'
