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Jack laughed. "Jean, you must remember, is never afraid of any one and is the only truly society person among us. Then, if you please won't mention it, I've an idea that the Italian nephew is entertaining Miss Bruce mightily. Remember she confided that he was teaching her Italian and she instructing him in English, poor Ralph! I am afraid Jean will never be content at the Rainbow Ranch any more after this experience of foreign life."
With her pale blonde hair carefully concealed from the night air in clouds of pale blue chiffon, Frieda, from the opposite seat, now leaned over toward her sister.
"Jack," she demanded seriously, as only Freida could, "why do you say, 'poor Ralph!' Do you think Ralph Merrit has ever been in love with Jean? They were always friends at the ranch, I know, but Ralph is poor and isn't good-looking and doesn't care for society. I am sure he would never suit Jean one bit."
But before she had finished speaking, Jack's gloved fingers were laid lightly on her small sister's lips. "For goodness sake, baby mine, do hush," she implored. "Of course I was only joking about Jean and Ralph. I can see how Ruth is frowning at me even in the dark. Who would ever have supposed that an infant like you would talk about 'being in love' in such a solemn fashion! You don't know the meaning of the word."
"Do you?" Frieda returned, speaking just as seriously.
But Jack only shook her head without replying.
The wonderful ivory-colored house, built in the fashion of the Italian Renaissance, was now coming into view with hundreds of low-growing evergreen shrubs close at its base. The house itself was lighted with golden, shaded lights. To one side was the Italian garden, where the girls had had tea with the Princess several afternoons before. It was also lighted, but hardly discernible now from the driveway.
By the Princess' orders, Ruth and the three Ranch girls were shown immediately to Jean's bedroom, which was apart from the dressing rooms provided for her other guests.
There Jean was waiting for them in her fancy costume and in a delicious state of excitement. As her door opened, the newcomers, forgetting themselves altogether, gave a cry of surprised admiration and were then curiously silent.
Jean had been standing in front of a long, gold-framed mirror, and now, turning swiftly, moved in their direction. Her costume was of the palest pink. The little bodice was of pink silk and pink chiffon, simply made and cut with a girlishly rounded neck, trimmed with a narrow edging of old lace. But from her silk girdle the skirt showed a wonderful arrangement of chiffon drapery, falling below her feet into a slightly pointed train at the back. She wore pink sandals bound with pink ribbons.
All this Ruth and the three girls observed in the instant that she ran to greet them. But the next moment, swinging slowly around on one lightly poised toe that the full effect of her appearance might be disclosed, between Jean's shoulders could be seen a tiny pair of butterfly wings. Her dark hair was parted low over her forehead and drawn into a loose knot high toward the back of her head. The costume was a lovely one, and Jean looked exquisite in it.
"Can you guess whom I represent?" she asked shyly, abashed by the admiration of her own family.
In answer Jack did something unusual between the two cousins, who were not usually as demonstrative with each other as with Ruth or with Olive and Frieda. For suddenly she leaned over, and holding Jean's chin in her white gloved hand kissed her, afterwards studying her face closely.
"I think I can guess, Jean," she returned. "I have been reading so much mythology lately, besides seeing so many famous statues. Your butterfly wings tell me that you are Psyche. I remember your story. Psyche was the daughter of a king and so beautiful that Venus, the goddess of beauty, grew jealous of her and sent her son Cupid to punish her for her presumption. But Cupid wounded himself with his own arrow and so fell in love with Psyche. There is a great deal more to the story, of course; afterwards Psyche and Cupid quarreled and for many years she had to wander around the world performing difficult tasks before being reunited with her love again. Psyche is the Greek name for soul and a butterfly the ancient emblem of the soul. Somehow you don't look like yourself tonight, Jean," here Jack hesitated; "you are like a spirit. Please don't be finding your fate too soon and so flying away from us."
But although Jean blushed and seemed for half a second troubled by her cousin's suggestion, she shook her head and began helping Frieda remove her wraps. When the blue cloak and the blue veil were thrown aside, the youngest of the Ranch girls stepped into the center of the room.
"Do I look almost as well as Jean?" she inquired earnestly. "I thought my costume so pretty when we left the hotel. But now that I have seen hers – "
Jean was dancing around Frieda as though she had been in reality a butterfly. Ruth, Jack and Olive would not allow the maids to take off their cloaks in order to give her their undivided attention.
"Frieda is the star of us all, isn't she?" Jack declared, since the spoiling of her small sister was a sin upon which the entire ranch party agreed. Unwrapping a round gold bowl, she then handed it to her. "Frieda represents the lovely goddess, Hebe, who served nectar and ambrosia to the high gods on Mount Olympus," she explained.
Quite oblivious of the admiring Italian maids, Ruth knelt down on the floor to rearrange Frieda's skirt. The young girl's dress was of corn color, almost the shade of her blond hair. So her eyes looked bluer and her cheeks pinker than ever. It was odd that her toilet had been copied from an old Greek model and yet was not unlike the modern style. A tunic of soft yellow crepe was loosely belted at the waist, the overskirt falling to her knees. About this was a border of gold braid in the Trojan wall pattern and beneath it hung the narrow, plain skirt. Frieda's yellow hair was caught together in a bunch of curls and a gold fillet encircled her head.
Olive was by this time ready to be admired. She seemed shy at being seen even by her dearest friends; but then Olive would never entirely recover from her timidity. Tonight she wore Nile green, the shade always best suited to her. She was dressed as Amphitrite, the wife of Neptune. Her costume was unlike the others. It was of India silk, because of its peculiar glistening quality, and strung with tiny sea shells. Around her slender throat was a string of pearls, which she had lately bought for herself in Rome as a gift from her friend, Miss Winthrop. In and out among the braids of her black hair were other strands of pearls. Above the middle of her forehead was a jeweled spear with three points. This represented a tiny trident, the symbol of Neptune's power over the sea.
Notwithstanding the assistance of the maids, after Ruth Drew had finally given a hurried glance at herself in Jean's mirror and had seen that three of the girls were ready to go down to the ball room, to her surprise she found Jack loitering. The girl had seated herself in a chair and, in the face of Olive's and Jean's protestations, still had her opera coat wrapped close about her.
"Are you ill, Jack?" Ruth queried, observing that she was paler than any one of them.
But Jack shook her head, smiling nervously. All of a sudden she did not seem like herself.
"I am frightened," she confessed the next moment. "It does not seem possible for me to go down to the ball room dressed as I am before so many strangers. I don't want to keep the rest of you waiting, but can't I stay here by myself for a few moments, Ruth? I want to think about something."
But before Ruth could answer Jean had almost forcibly pulled off her cousin's wrap. "If you are not ill, Jack dear, how can you be so absurd! If it were Olive now who suddenly had an attack of stage fright we might forgive her. But you! Why you have never been afraid of people or of things in your life. Besides you will only have to speak to the Princess and the Prince Colonna. We won't know any one else except Captain Madden and – perhaps a few other persons. The others we can just enjoy seeing." During her speech Jean had tried to catch her cousin's expression. But Jack had her eyes down. Now she jumped hurriedly to her feet and went out of the room ahead of the others. Evidently she did not wish to hear herself or her costume discussed. She did look unlike the other three Ranch girls tonight – taller and older. And while their costumes were in colors, hers was pure white, nothing but soft folds of drapery from her shoulders to her feet. Her only ornament was a half moon of brilliants in the bronze coils of her hair. For Jacqueline, partly because the girls had used to call her Diana in the old days at the ranch on account of her love of hunting and supposed coldness of character, had dressed as the far-famed Latin goddess of the moon.
Slipping down the marble staircase in her gray evening gown, Ruth Drew felt like a chimney swallow amid an assemblage of brilliant, gaily colored birds. Yet she was glad enough to be inconspicuous. Never in their lives had the four Ranch girls been so lovely. Ruth was almost sorry. She did not wish them to attract too much attention. The interest they had taken in their toilets had been for their own and for her pleasure and because of the Princess Colonna's kindness. At this instant Ruth decided that so soon as their greetings were spoken she would find a secluded place, where they might have their first sight of foreign society and yet be properly out of the limelight themselves.
CHAPTER XV
A SURPRISE
JACQUELINE RALSTON was sitting alone in a quiet portion of the Princess Colonna's Italian garden, listening to the soft splashing of a fountain at no great distance away. Now and then she put her hands to her face. Why were her fingers so cold and her cheeks so warm? For Jack was no longer pale; indeed, her whole countenance was curiously flushed. No longer did she look the tall, stately goddess of a few hours before, but like a tremulous and startled girl. For Jack had just received her first proposal and could not for the life of her tell whether she had accepted or rejected it.
Captain Madden had gone away. She had sent him to find Ruth, as she did not wish to remain alone; neither did she wish him to stay with her. It was not that Jack wanted to confide what had taken place to her chaperon. Nothing was further from her intention at the present time. For Jack had not yet been able to make up her mind whether or not she cared for the man who had just told her that he loved her. And fortunately or unfortunately it was not Jacqueline Ralston's habit to ask the advice of other people about what seriously concerned herself. She must decide one way or the other, and then it would be time to tell Ruth. But suddenly she had felt very young and lonely and forlorn with an absurd disposition to cry. If only Ruth would come to her now she could say that she was tired and not feeling particularly well. It would be quite true. Tonight had been the most wonderful in her whole life; never had she dreamed of such beauty and such splendor. Yet suddenly Jack had felt a kind of homesick longing for Jim Colter and the simplicity of their old life on the ranch.
And yet Jack could not truthfully have said that she had been taken completely by surprise by Captain Madden's proposal. Ever since their meeting with him in Rome, there had been times when she had wondered if it could be possible that he was learning to care for her with more than a friendly interest. For even a girl as young and as innocent as Jack cannot be wholly blind.
Ruth had believed herself a careful chaperon. Little did she dream of the intimate talks the girl and man had had together, standing side by side in some church or gallery, looking at some special object, when the other members of their party had wandered away.
Then had come tonight! Jack had grown tired; Ruth was talking to some new acquaintances, Jean and Frieda and Olive were dancing. Captain Madden had asked that she walk into the garden with him to rest.
There were many people about and yet they had managed to find a secluded place. Jack could see a number of men and women passing near her, some of them in wonderfully beautiful costumes, others looking a trifle absurd. She closed her eyes, not wishing to see but to think!
Captain Madden had told her that he loved her. He had confessed also that he was twice her age and poor. But could Jack forget these things and care for him notwithstanding?
One wonders how the man had come to appreciate Jacqueline Ralston's nature so thoroughly in the few weeks of their acquaintance? Did he know that this appeal would be the surest way to awaken her sympathies? Jack had always a passion for doing things for other people rather than having them do for her. If she loved Captain Madden, she would gladly share all her money with him. It was stupid of her, however, not to realize that no true man could have been willing to ask all the sacrifices of her. Jack's only present problem was: "Did she care enough?" Captain Madden was older and wiser and so much better and braver! Think of all the stories he had told them in which she felt sure he must have been a hero! Although never once had he so spoken of himself! Then, too, had he not saved her life? Jack had never forgotten that moment of danger at Gibraltar, however little her rescuer had made of his part in it.
Jack sat up suddenly. Captain Madden had consented that she have a week in which to make up her mind, but had asked that his suit be kept a secret. Now some one was evidently coming toward her and there must be nothing in her face or manner to betray her.
What a picture she made at this moment Jacqueline Ralston would never know! For nowhere could there be surroundings more beautiful nor a figure which seemed so unreal and yet so ideally lovely! Surely Diana had wandered to earth from the groves of high Olympus and was resting here, waiting for her nymphs. She was sitting on a three-cornered marble bench under a group of palms, with the moonlight flooding her white dress and sending forth tiny sparks of light from the crescent of brilliants in her hair.
In surprise she lifted her head to watch the stranger approaching her. She had thought at first that it might be Captain Madden with Ruth or one of the other girls. But the man was taller, younger, more slender and was alone. Who on earth could he be? Jack rose hurriedly and took a step forward. The man was holding out both hands with an oddly familiar gesture.
"Jack," he said slowly, "don't you know me? Aren't you glad to see me? I arrived in Rome only an hour ago and came directly here. I have spoken to Jean and Ruth and now have found you."
"Frank Kent!" Jack repeated, too surprised by the young man's unexpected appearance to show any other emotion. "You have changed, but in the daylight of course I should have recognized you. It was only that I should never have dreamed of your coming to Rome without letting us know. I asked you to wait to see us until we arrived in England."
She had given both her hands to her old friend and was trying not to have her manner appear cold. Yet she could feel rather than see that Frank's face was flooding with color, just as it had so easily in those old days of their first acquaintance at the Rainbow Ranch.
"That is a discouraging greeting after a two years' separation. I hoped you might feel more pleasure in seeing me," Frank suggested.
Jack and the young man had walked slowly forth from her retreat and were now within the glow of the yellow-shaded electric lights. Jack looked up into her companion's face. He was older and tonight seemed graver. Also he wore the expression of dignified displeasure, which Jack recalled so readily. She could almost remember this same look on his face the day she had run away to the round-up and so lost Olive and brought tremendous unhappiness upon herself and her family. Less than anybody in the world did Jacqueline Ralston desire to see Frank Kent during this particular week of her life. Yet she could not willingly hurt his feelings.
Now she laughed, looking a little more like the girl of the past.
"I didn't mean to sound ungracious, Frank. Of course I am glad to see you, for you must have had some good reason for coming to Rome just now. Otherwise I know you would have granted me my wish and waited until we got to England for our meeting. What was your reason?"
But Frank Kent did not at the present moment have to answer this question. For within a few feet of them were Captain Madden, Ruth and Olive.
And whatever of kindness Jack's reception may have lacked was made up for by Olive's enthusiasm. Forgetting her shyness for one of the occasional times in her life, she ran forward with her eyes shining and a lovely color in her cheeks. Jack thought she had never seen her friend prettier or happier.
"Oh, I am so delighted you have come, Mr. Kent – Frank," she declared. "It seems too much like old times to be formal. Ruth had just told me of your arrival and I could hardly give you time even to speak to Jack."
There could be no doubt of how much pleasure Olive's frank welcome afforded the Ranch girls' former friend. Frank Kent had always been much interested in Olive and her peculiar history from the day when his presence saved her from being taken away from Rainbow Lodge by the Indian woman Laska and her son. He had seen her develop from an apparently poorly educated, part-Indian into a gentle and charming American girl.
And now she was no longer a girl, but almost a woman.
The expression of Frank's brown eyes changed. He gazed so steadily at Olive that she blushed and then smiled.
"I have been seeing so many visions tonight I ought to be prepared for most anything," he remarked. "But I confess I am not for this transformation of Olive into a sea nymph." The young man made no effort to conceal his admiration as he held Olive's hand in his own a little longer than was necessary.
For just half an instant Jack wondered; then she brought herself sharply to task. Because of her own recent experience why should she be dwelling so much on one subject? Besides, without wishing any one to guess it, she was interested in Frank Kent's and Captain Madden's manner toward each other. Captain Madden approached to shake hands with his cousin with entire amiability, but to Jack's irritation Frank's behavior was hardly civil. The young man never had been able to disguise his real feelings (the trait is not an English one); so now he bowed coldly. Then he continued talking to Ruth and Olive, almost as though the older man were not present.
If all of Jack's friends had been doing their level best to force her into the championship of Captain Madden, they could hardly have arranged a better method. She slipped her arm through the older man's at this moment in a very pretty fashion and together they led the way back to the ball room.
It was now a good deal past midnight and Ruth decided that the time had come for saying farewell. Jean was dancing with Giovanni Colonna and Frieda with Leon. But in a few moments they were persuaded to stop, and the Ranch party found the Princess Colonna, to say good-night.
The Princess had appeared at her ball in the character of Atalanta, the maiden who could run more swiftly than any man in the world. To all her suitors she had imposed the condition that she should be the prize of the man who could conquer her in a race, and had been finally won by the youth who dropped the golden apples at her feet, which she stooped to pick up.
Jean's Princess wore a crimson robe and around her yellow hair a wreath of golden laurel leaves. In her hand she carried a golden apple.
Yet in spite of the magnificence of the scene about her, she excused herself from her guests and went with the Ranch girls to Jean's room. Jean was going home tonight with her family.
Quite like another girl, who was neither a Princess nor yet a mythological character, the Princess Colonna kissed Jean good-by.
"I do wish you could let one of your girls stay with me always," she said, when she and Ruth were parting. "I think I am often homesick for America and the old life in the west which I led as a child. Jean has made me feel almost young again."
And though Ruth and the four girls laughed at the suggestion of the Princess' needing to feel young, each one of them noticed that when one studied her face closely there were lines about her mouth and eyes.
On the way home, the five women crowded into one carriage, Jean turned to her chaperon: "I know it isn't good taste to talk about people, Ruth dear, when one has been visiting them, so please don't reproach me. But I could not help seeing while I was the Princess' guest that, without knowing it, she has been a kind of Atalanta. Only in the race for happiness the golden apple she stopped to pick up was not money. She had wealth enough, but it was a title and a great position. The Prince may be very nice. I did not learn to know him very well, but certainly he seemed more like his wife's father than her husband. How can a girl ever marry a man twice as old as she is?"
CHAPTER XVI
LEAVING ROME
"I AM sorry, Jean, that you think no one could care for me for myself, and that it is my money that is my sole attraction. If that is true I could wish for my own part that the Rainbow mine had never been discovered."
The two cousins, Jack and Jean, were alone in their sitting room in their hotel in Rome. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, six days after the Princess' ball, and although it was raining and a cold, disagreeable afternoon, Ruth, Olive and Frieda had gone forth on another sight-seeing pilgrimage.
Jack had been writing letters, but had ceased and gone over to stand by the window when Jean began her conversation. There was just a chance that it might be wiser for her cousin not to be able to see her face, for she was quicker to arrive at conclusions than any other one of them.
But Jean had said more than Jack supposed she would have dared. Now she turned from pretending to view the dismal picture of chilly orange trees and chillier marble statuary and her gray eyes met Jean's brown ones coldly.
Jean sighed. Somehow she and Jack had so often managed to misunderstand each other, ever since they were little girls. And now, when she particularly wanted to keep her cousin from growing angry and to talk things over candidly, why, as usual, she had begun matters by putting her foot in it. Jack had such an uncomfortable fashion of growing white and quiet when she was furious, instead of crimson and teary like Jean and Frieda. Why on earth had Ruth ever appointed her to tell Jack Frank Kent's account of his cousin and to find out whether she cared for him. It was certainly Ruth's place to have done it herself. Why in the world hadn't she had the sense to decline.
"But I never said anything in the least like that, Jack, and it is not fair of you to suggest it," Jean replied, doing her best to answer as gently as possible. "It was only that I told you we had good reason to believe that Captain Madden is a fortune-hunter. I don't know, of course, whether you care in the least who or what he is, but he is desperately poor, has had to resign from the British army because he didn't or couldn't pay his debts, and, and – do you care to hear anything else?"
Jack's eyes flashed curiously. Jean remembered how ever since she was a little girl her cousin's eyes had had this fashion of turning dark when any one opposed her will. And they had all thought Jack so entirely changed by her illness, so much softened, so much readier to give up her own way to other people's. At this instant Jean wondered if any one ever really changed in the leading traits of character?
"I don't care to learn anything more just now to Captain Madden's discredit," Jack was saying quietly and reasonably enough, "but I would like very much to know how you and Ruth, and Olive and Frieda for that matter, have heard so much in such a short time? Is it Frank Kent who has told you? Because if he has, I should like to tell you that Captain Madden had warned me Frank was apt to say disagreeable things about him. As for his being poor and having had to leave the army because of it, why of course I knew that. And I don't believe I care to hear anything more on the subject that you may wish to say."