“There ought to be a chest of drawers,” said Easton doubtfully.
“I don’t think so,” replied Ruth. “There’s a cupboard in the room and whoever took it would be sure to have a box.”
“Well, if you think you can do the work I’ve no objection,” said Easton. “It’ll be a nuisance having a stranger in the way all the time, but I suppose we must do something of the sort or else we’ll have to give up the house and take a couple of rooms somewhere. That would be worse than having lodgers ourselves.
“Let’s go and have a look at the room,” he added, getting up and taking the lamp from the wall.
They had to go up two flights of stairs before arriving at the top landing, where there were two doors, one leading into the front room—their bedroom—and the other into the empty back room. These two doors were at right angles to each other. The wallpaper in the back room was damaged and soiled in several places.
“There’s nearly a whole roll of this paper on the top of the cupboard,” said Ruth. “You could easily mend all those places. We could hang up a few almanacks on the walls; our washstand could go there by the window; a chair just there, and the bed along that wall behind the door. It’s only a small window, so I could easily manage to make a curtain out of something. I’m sure I could make the room look quite nice without spending hardly anything.”
Easton reached down the roll of paper. It was the same pattern as that on the wall. The latter was a good deal faded, of course, but it would not matter much if the patches showed a little. They returned to the kitchen.
“Do you think you know anyone who would take it?” asked Ruth. Easton smoked thoughtfully.
“No,” he said at length. “But I’ll mention it to one or two of the chaps on the job; they might know of someone.”
“And I’ll get Mrs Crass to ask her lodgers: p’raps they might have a friend what would like to live near them.”