The Ranch Girls in Europe Part 14

"Mr. Colter," she said, "there are so many, many things I want to say to you I hardly know where to begin. I know how you must feel toward me, how you must feel that I have utterly failed in my duty toward Jack, and how nearly I have come to allowing her to wreck her life. There is nothing that you can think about me that I do not about myself. Of course, you know, I erred through ignorance, and yet ignorance is no excuse. A woman with so little knowledge, so little tact--" Ruth's face was crimsoning all over and she had to put her handkerchief to her eyes to wipe away her tears.

Jim had stepped forward and stood towering above her so that he had to bend his handsome head to see into her face.

"Miss Drew, you are not to go calling yourself bad names and then declare that I feel as you say I do. Honest Injun, Miss Ruth, I haven't had a single one of those feelings about you. Since I have known about this tragedy that poor Jack has nearly gotten us all into, I have been plumb sorry for you with all my heart. How could a little New England girl like you know anything about an accomplished rascal like this fellow Madden? Yet I guessed if Jack wouldn't give in (and she is usually a hard-headed customer), why you'd be blaming yourself for a thing you couldn't prevent until the end of your days. I tell you, Miss Ruth, that thought, besides my love for Jack, kept me hot on that man's trail. And it even helped me break the news to Jack today, which was the hardest part."

Ruth looked up into the deeply blue eyes above hers.

"Jim Colter," she announced quietly, "I believe you are the very best man in the world."

But instead of being pleased, Jim drew back as though his feelings had been deeply hurt. "Don't say that, Miss Ruth," he begged. "And don't you go and believe because I don't mention it that I have forgotten that sin I committed a way back in my youth and the way it made you feel about me. You have been awfully good treating me so kind and polite whenever you have to meet me around with the girls. I've done my best not to worry you any more'n I could help."

"Oh, Mr. Colter, oh Jim," Ruth faltered, "please don't say a cruel thing like that to me. Haven't you forgiven me after almost three years?

You must have known that in a few months, as soon as I got away from the ranch, I realized how narrow and foolish and blind I had been. You are a good man; you are the bravest, kindest, most forgiving in the whole world. And I don't care, I know you have forgotten about me long ago, but I want you to know I love you. It seems to me sometimes a woman must have the right to say this just to prove she can be as generous as a man. But I don't care whether I have the right or not. I am just saying it because it is true."

"For heaven's sake, stop, Ruth," the big man implored.

But the little New England school teacher, who had hardly ever dared show her real feelings before in her life, would not be silenced.

"Don't worry, Jim, I shall never regret what I have said, though I shall never speak of it again--and perhaps never see you after you sail for America."

Jim swept the little woman off her feet and held her for a moment to his heart.

"Don't you dare say a thing like that to me, child," he threatened. "And don't you believe you are going to lose sight of me more than a few hours at a time while both of us are living in this world. Why, you little white, New England snow-maiden. The very idea of your having the nerve to stand up right before my face and say you love a big, good-for-nothing, sinful fellow like me. But I kind of wish you'd wake Jack and the other three girls up and tell them we are going to get married tomorrow."

CHAPTER XX

AN ENGLISH COUNTRY PLACE

TWO figures on horseback galloped rapidly across the English downs, the one a number of yards in advance of the other.

A low stone fence divided the adjoining meadows. But at a slight touch from its rider the first horse rose easily in the air, clearing the fence without difficulty. On the farther side it stumbled, plunged forward until steadied by the hands on its reins and came gradually to the earth upon its knees. Then the rider slid off and talking quietly to the horse brought it up on its feet again, just at the moment that her escort jumped the fence and drew up alongside her.

"Jacqueline Ralston, I take off my hat to you. You are one of the best riders I ever saw in my life. Goodness, but you gave me a nasty moment when you made that unexpected plunge forward and I had a vision of your going over head-foremost." Frank Kent's face was pale from the moment's alarm, but he tried making his voice as calm as possible.

"Yes, it was stupid of me," Jack returned. "There evidently was a hole this side the fence and I managed to make straight for it. Look, will you, Frank, while I get my breath."

Jack took the reins of both horses and waited for a moment, while the young man made the search. It required hardly a second, for the depression in the ground was only a few feet back of them. There it was a hole not more than twelve inches in diameter and half as many inches deep, yet of a peculiarly dangerous character for horseback riders.

"Suppose I had broken your father's finest riding horse's leg!" Jack exclaimed, when her companion had made the report and pointed out the spot to her. "Gracious, I should have been so sorry, both because of him and because of the horse, too!" Jack added. Having now given up both bridles into Frank's keeping, she continued patting the quivering sides of the beautiful animal, which had not yet recovered from its moment of danger.

"Let us sit down here a few moments and rest, Jack," the young man suggested. "I can tie the horses nearby and it will be a good idea to let them have a short breathing s.p.a.ce. The others won't miss us for a while yet; we were too far ahead."

Several yards beyond there was a clump of old chestnut trees, and Jack sat down in the shade of one of them, where Frank joined her a little later.

Flinging himself down lengthwise on the ground, the young man rested his head in his hands, facing his companion.

Jacqueline had taken off her riding hat and was adjusting the heavy braids of her hair, which had become loosened by her plunge.

"I say, Jack, you do look awfully fit these days. You turned a bit pale a few moments ago, but now your color is as good as ever. I was afraid you might feel kind of used up. It was like you to start talking about the possible loss of a horse when you might have been smashed up," Frank began.

Jack laughed rather faintly. "Oh, I had a bad moment too," she confessed. "What is the use of pretending to be a heroine when it is not true? But one can't be laid up for nearly two years as I was without even being able to walk and face the chance of another accident with altogether steady nerves. And just when I was feeling exactly like my old self. I tell you, Frank, this visit to your father and mother has been a beautiful experience for all of us. I can't tell you how grateful we are. I believe it has been this delicious outdoor life and the news of Ruth's and Jim's engagement that has made me absolutely well in a hurry, after taking rather a long time to get fairly started."

"It can't mean to you, Jack, what it has to me," the young man answered in such a queer, constrained voice that the girl looked at him curiously from under her downcast lids.

Jack wondered if he were going to tell her of his love for Olive.

Earnestly she hoped that he would not--at least, not today. She hated this business of growing up. Perhaps her own unfortunate experience earlier in their trip had given her this foolish prejudice. That must be the reason why she had developed such an odd, choking sensation as soon as she believed that Frank intended making her his confidante. She wished that they might all remain good friends as they had in the past.

How dreadful it would be to have to give Olive up--or Frank! Besides, think of Donald Harmon's feelings! A month ago Donald had joined them in England and since had been Olive's shadow. Indeed, the young man had not made the slightest effort to disguise his att.i.tude. He was in love with Olive and did not seem to mind the whole world's knowing it.

But Olive! Jack glanced carefully at Frank and was glad to see that he was not looking at her, but was still trying to reach a decision. There could be little doubt in Jack's mind that Olive must prefer Frank Kent to Donald. Not that Olive had ever confided in her. But there had always been something in her friend's manner to make Jack feel this unconsciously. She believed that she had noticed it particularly in the past two weeks while they had been the guests of Frank's parents, Lord and Lady Kent, at their wonderful country estate.

Jack stirred. Then she must not be keeping Frank so long away.

The entire house party from the castle was spending the day in the woods, and the others must have halted somewhere nearer home and would be expecting them to return and join them.

"I think we had best go back now, Frank, please. I am not in the least upset by my near tumble," the girl announced. "But you will not mention it to Ruth or Jim or any of the girls? It did not amount to anything, yet I don't want Ruth and Jim to have the slightest shade of anxiety to spoil their beautiful time of being engaged. Poor Jim was desperate at first at the thought of waiting almost six weeks before his marriage, but now the ceremony is so near I think he would not have given up this time for a great deal. You see, he and Ruth are only going to take a week's honeymoon journey, as your mother has been good enough to promise to look after us. And then we are all going back to the ranch together.

This time poor Ruth will be dreadfully well chaperoned."

"Yes, I know, Jack, but please don't go just yet. There is something that--" Frank hesitated. Evidently, however, Jacqueline had not heard him, for she had gotten up as she finished speaking and was moving off.

The young people found the rest of their party about half a mile back, where they had chosen their picnic grounds in the neighborhood of a brook. Jim and Ruth were not with them, but Olive and Donald Harmon, Frieda and d.i.c.k Grant, Jean and the young Italian, Giovanni Colonna, Lord and Lady Kent and Frank's two sisters, Marcia and Dorothy, were sitting in a great circle and in the center was evidently a gypsy woman.

Frank had met d.i.c.k Grant in London and thinking him a nice American boy had asked him down to Kent castle for the day. Giovanni Colonna had been his guest for a week.

Apparently the advent of the two newcomers had interrupted the flow of the fortune-teller's narrative, for she was standing perfectly silent with her big, rather impertinent black eyes fastened on Olive's face.

"Please send the gypsy away, Lady Kent," Olive begged. "She seems to be making up her mind to say something to me. And years ago I had such a dismal fortune told me by a gypsy who stopped at the Rainbow Lodge that I have never been able to forget it."

Frank was paying off the woman and telling her to be gone, so that he did not hear the next few moments' conversation.

"What did she tell you, Olive?" Frieda asked. "I remember we thought it queer at the time, but I have forgotten what it was."

Olive flushed. She had her old childish dislike of being the center of attention, and yet she had brought this upon herself.

"Oh, she told me that I was going to find out my parentage some day, and I have. Then she told me that I would inherit a large fortune." Olive glanced a little nervously at Donald Harmon, adding, "but of course that will never come true. And--and I can't remember much else. The story was told in a kind of jingle."

"Yes, and I recall it better than you do, Olive dear," Jack suddenly broke in. "The ridiculous woman suggested such abominable things about me. She said that without knowing it I was going to bring sorrow upon my best-beloved Olive. I don't know just in what way she meant it, but of course it was a ridiculous falsehood." And Jack flushed so hotly and spoke with such unnecessary intensity that her listeners laughed.

At the same time a man servant appeared, announcing that luncheon was about to be served. And Olive and Donald, who had been informed where the lovers were to be found, went off together to summon Ruth and Jim.

CHAPTER XXI

MIDNIGHT CONFIDENCES