REFLECTIONS
RUTH had her way. When the Martha Washington finally arrived in Naples, good-byes were said to all their ship's acquaintances and the Rainbow Ranch party had their first ten days in Italy to themselves. There was a little time of rest and then visits to the Island of Capri, to the ruins of Pompeii, to Mount Vesuvius. And before very long Ruth and the four girls found themselves yielding more than they had dreamed to the wonderful spell of southern Italy. Not that any one object or place made so great an impression beyond another, but because Italy seemed so different from their own land. It was as though they had one day been transported by an airship for a journey through the planet Jupiter or Mars.
The soft Italian voices with their tuneful cadences, the laziness and air of having all eternity for the performance of a task, the big, brown-eyed beauty of the women and children—it was all irresistible. Actually thegirls felt their own characters changing. Where was their old energetic desire to take long walks, to rise up early and certainly never to waste a moment in a nap in the afternoon? Why in Naples one felt always drowsy, less inclined to talk, and wished only to drive and dream and feast one's eyes and ears and nose, all the senses at once. For here was beauty, music and such fragrance, surely the three graces of nature! And the roses, they were everywhere in bloom, climbing over every ruined wall and broken gateway, covering whole hillsides, until at last Jack was obliged to admit that they were as abundant and even more beautiful than her own wild prairie roses.
But Naples was only to be the Ranch girls' first introduction to Italy, their first taste of her delights. Rome was really the central object of their pilgrimage, where the greater part of their time was to be spent.
And Rome Ruth had decided must be taken seriously.
In Naples she had let things drift, had even felt as inactive and pleasure-loving as her younger companions. But then she had been tired from her sea voyage. Manypersons had said that it required a week or ten days for recovery if one had been seasick. Also this may have explained why so frequently of late she had caught herself thinking of Jim Colter. Why should the nights in Naples recall moonlit evenings on the ranch which they had spent together years before?
Almost the only suggestion that Jim had made to her before their sailing was that the girls should acquire enough culture on their European trip to compensate him for the loss of their society. And Ruth had conscientiously determined to do her best. All the winter past she had devoted to the study of Roman history. Indeed, it had helped her pass many a lonely evening, when otherwise the picture of the Rainbow Lodge living room, with the girls seated about the fire and the big figure of their guardian stalking in and out half a dozen times within the hour, had a fashion of appearing before her eyes.
Ruth had begun her acquaintance with the Ranch girls as their teacher. So that now, although they were nearly grown, it was hard for her to give up all her old principles and practices. In their different ways thefour girls were charming, and yet there was much Ruth felt that they should know. However, the past year had made more changes in their characters than she could ever have supposed. She had been surprised to find how much they now cared for people and society, and had been disappointed as well; for Ruth had not realized that the Ranch girls were yet old enough for these interests, in spite of the fact that Jack was nearly twenty and Olive and Jean not so far away. Jack in particular had been a revelation to Ruth, who had been making special plans for her intellectual development. For she was the oldest of the four girls and yet had never had the advantage of Primrose Hall and Miss Winthrop. After their trip abroad then, there would be time enough for society, their chaperon decided, actually believing that the natural experiences of life can be persuaded to wait for set times and set places.
So all the way along the road from Naples to Rome, Ruth was making her own plans for the four girls, little guessing what was occupying their minds. Nevertheless their thoughts were as eternal to youth as any symbol of eternity in the most wonderful of all cities.
"'Tis the centerTo which all gravitates. One finds no restElsewhere than here. There may be other citiesThat please us for a while, but Rome aloneCompletely satisfies."
Or at least this was Ruth Drew's idea, as she sat watching the landscape fly past her window, with these lines keeping time to the turning of the car wheels.
Notwithstanding that, Jean Bruce sat exactly opposite, with her eyes closed showing the length of her dark lashes against the clear pallor of her cheeks, Jean was not devoting all her energies to reflecting upon the historic curiosities of ancient Rome. She wanted to see everything of importance, of course, but she was also wondering if the Princess Colonna would keep the promise made in their farewells on the steamship. Would she call on them in Rome and afterwards invite them to meet her friends? The invitation might possibly be to an afternoon tea; yet even then there was a chance of meeting some member of the Italian nobility or other prominent person. And Jean did not think herself a snob because she wanted to meet big people as well as to see big things. Always they had led such a quiet life at theranch, and boarding school had offered but few opportunities for making outside friends. Indeed, her only other chances for mingling with the world had been their summer trip through the Yellowstone and her week's visit to Margaret Belknap during the Christmas holidays at Primrose Hall. So Jean's social aspirations were possibly not unreasonable.
And, curiously enough, Olive Van Mater, for at least a portion of their pilgrimage to Rome, was considering certain friends whom she might possibly meet there, instead of the marvels of the city itself. For she was expecting that her cousins, Mrs. Harmon, Donald and Elizabeth, might make their appearance. And although Olive was fond of all three of them, she could not look forward to their meeting with pleasure. The truth is that Olive's grandmother, as we must know from the past volume in this series, was a self-willed, unwise old woman. No sooner had she seen Olive and Donald together half a dozen times and noticed the young fellow's liking for her granddaughter, than she had made up her mind the way she intended to escape her own difficulty. Why puzzle to decide whether she should leave her large fortune to the Harmons, as she had so longpromised, or give it to the newly found granddaughter?
"Let the two young persons marry and share the money between them. Elizabeth could be comforted with a reasonable legacy." This decision Madame Van Mater had confided to Miss Winthrop almost as soon as the idea had come into her head. And then, in spite of Miss Winthrop's openly expressed disapproval, after Olive's return from the ranch for her second winter at Primrose Hall, her grandmother had made known her wishes to her.
"So that you may not get any other love nonsense into your head," Madame Van Mater explained to Olive, as though there could be no possibility of her desire being disobeyed. And this in spite of the fact that Olive had insisted that Donald could never care for her or she for him, and that nothing would induce her to follow her grandmother's wishes. Indeed, except for Miss Winthrop, Olive might have been made extremely unhappy. But her friend had explained that Madame Van Mater was growing childish with age and would probably change her mind in regard to the willing of her wealth many times before her death. Also she assuredher that Madame Van Mater had never mentioned her purpose to Donald Harmon, and if Miss Winthrop could influence her, never should. Nevertheless Olive's peace of mind and pleasure in her cousin's society had been successfully destroyed by her grandmother's suggestion. Actually the girl lived in a kind of shy dread of Don's ever finding it out or attempting to follow Madame Van Mater's wishes. She had always protested that the greater share of the family fortunes should be left to the Harmons. She herself would be content with very little and wanted no special favors, since her grandmother had never brought herself to care for her. Notwithstanding this, the old lady had seen that her granddaughter had an even larger sum than the three Ranch girls for her traveling expenses in Europe. And had said that she was to buy whatever she liked and to send for more money whenever it was necessary.
Yet Ruth and the girls were traveling in a far more expensive fashion and spending more money than they ever had before. For, in spite of the discovery of the Rainbow mine, they had continued to live simply. Nevertheless, in starting off on their Europeantrip, Jim had advised them to have a good time and not to worry, as he guessed the gold mine could do the rest.
So that Jack in the course of her journey from Naples rather wondered if Captain Madden had not received a wrong impression of the amount of their wealth. Or possibly Frank Kent had told him. In any case it was annoying for Frank to have mentioned their financial affairs to so complete a stranger as Captain Madden had then been. Jack was glad she had written asking Frank not to join them in Italy. Two years might have made a great change in his character, so that they could not be friends as they had once been. Besides, had she not guessed, without actually having been told, that Captain Madden and Frank, in spite of being cousins, were not particularly good friends? And as Captain Madden had mentioned that there was a bare chance of his spending the spring in Rome it might be awkward meeting them together. Of course Jack had not spoken of the chance of running across Captain Madden in Rome to any of her family. In the first place, Captain Madden had been by no means sure of his presence there, and in the second,Jack had the impression that Jean, Olive and Frieda did not like him. This was absurd, of course, with a man so much older! As he had traveled and spent other seasons in Rome, surely he would be an agreeable guide and help them to see the right things in the right way?
Only Frieda, besides Ruth, was not looking forward with either pleasure or dread to any persons whom she might happen to run across in Rome. Certainly Dick Grant and his mother were to be there (Dick had told her every detail of their plans in the course of their early acquaintance), but whether they were in Rome or not was of no interest to Frieda. For the younger Miss Ralston had been true to her decision and not once in the two-day-and-a-half sail from Gibraltar to Naples had she acknowledged the existence of either Mrs. Grant or her son. And this in spite of their humble apologies to Jack, and her sister's ready acceptance of them.
However, this much justice must be accorded the Ranch girls that when, at sunset, they at last entered "the eternal city" all personal thoughts and considerations were swept from their minds. High in the distance they could see the tower of St. Peter's; in themidst of the town ran the muddy stream of the Tiber; and over all Rome's beauty and antiquity hovered the golden atmosphere for which the city is also justly famous.
ITALIAN VIOLETS
"DO make up your minds and let us go somewhere," Frieda pleaded. "I don't see that it is so important where we go first."
She was wearing a new lavender cloth frock trimmed in silk and a hat of the same shade, with a big bunch of violets resting against her yellow hair. From her hand dangled her adored gold-link pocketbook. So there was no question of Frieda's preparedness for beginning their first day's sight-seeing in Rome. Ruth and the other three girls showed no such signs of being ready for immediate departure.
They were together in their big sitting room, which overlooked a beautiful enclosed court, characteristic of Italian hotels and homes. And at least half an hour of their morning the girls had devoted to gazing out of their windows. In the center of the courtyard a fountain played continually—not a fountain of an ordinary kind, but the figureof a beautiful boy, with his arms high in the air, holding two great shells into which the water poured and then splashed down to the ground below. Around the enclosure were copies of famous statues and miniature orange and lemon trees.
Jack in a comfortable silk dressing gown was placidly gazing at this scene when Frieda's speech arrested her attention.
"Why be in such a hurry, Frieda mia?" she inquired. "You know we have firmly decided not to begin our labors too early. Besides, this morning we are tired and don't you see that Ruth, Jean and Olive are deeply engaged in laying out our plan of campaign? It has got to be arranged where we are to go, what we are to do on our arrival, what things we are to thrill over and what to pass by." And Jack laughed, letting her eyes rest for a moment on Ruth's face. Their chaperon's expression was so serious. Did Jack guess that her education was about to be solemnly taken in hand? Well, she felt very young this morning and very much in need of learning a great many things. Rome gave one such an overpowering sense of ignorance!
But Frieda was much displeased. "You told me you would be ready at half-past ten,Jacqueline Ralston, and let me go and dress. Now it is after eleven. And if nobody will come with me I shall just go out and walk up and down by myself."
From the pages of her Baedeker Ruth looked up quickly. It was not often that she was positive with the girls, but she had insisted that during their stay in Italy no one of them go anywhere alone.
Frieda blushed penitently. "I didn't mean it, Ruth, of course. Still, I think it's hateful for none of you even to start to get ready."
"Oh, do be quiet, Frieda, and sit down and wait, or, if not, go to your own room," Jack remarked impatiently. "I think you are forgetting our compact very soon. One more objection and you will kindly place your fine in Ruth's charge."
Without replying, Frieda marched haughtily out of the sitting room and into her own and Jean's bed room.
It was true that the night before leaving Naples the Rainbow Ranch party had made a kind of "Traveler's Agreement Society," setting down a number of rules for their mutual benefit and promising to follow them.
The suggestion had come from Olive who was always the peacemaker in all differencesof opinion. For although the travelers had been only a few weeks upon their journey, already they had learned that there is nothing that is a surer test of one's amiability than constant sight-seeing, which entails a continuous moving from place to place of people who are expected to do the same things at the same time regardless of their personal tastes and inclination.
From the top of her suit-case Frieda drew forth a sheet of paper. Possibly Jack had been right, for the rules of their compact read:
First: In all questions pertaining to travel, such as the selection of places to be visited, choice of hotels, etc., the rule of the majority shall prevail.
Second: In all questions in which there is a moral issue at stake, a matter of right or wrong to be decided, the chaperon's judgment is to be followed.
Third: If any member of the party becomes weary during the course of the journey, all are to rest. (This rule was made for Jack's protection and was Olive's proposal, knowing that her friend would never voluntarily give up, if she thought her fatigue might interfere with their pleasure.)
Fourth (and this was of Jack's recommendation): Each one shall try to be as agreeable as possible to the others' friends, since it is not to be expected that they could like the same people equally well.
Fifth: If any one of the five travelers shall make three cross speeches in the course of one day, the said traveler is to pay into the keeping of Ruth Drew a fine to the amount of fifty cents, United States money. For the fourth cross speech, one dollar, and so on, with the amount doubling. And at the end of the European trip, this sum, whatever the amount, is to be employed for the purchase of a gift for the girl against whose name there is the smallest number of bad counts.
And Frieda had rather expected that this prize would fall to her. Indeed, she had quite made up her mind to attain it. For certainly she was far more amiable than Jack or Jean, and Ruth was apt to grow nervous if things went wrong. For instance, take this question of her going out on the street alone. Ruth might have known that she had had no real intention of being disobedient. Indeed, Olive was the only member of their party whom Frieda believed she had reason to regard as her rival in amiability. And ofcourse one opponent was necessary to make the contest interesting. Really, Frieda desired this prize more than most anything she could think of—not just for the prize itself, although there was no telling what its value might be, but because it could be retained forever like a conqueror's flag to be waved over her family.
For ten minutes more, therefore, Frieda sat down in an upright chair, waiting patiently. Notwithstanding this, Jean did not even come in for her coat and hat, or with any suggestion that they ever intended leaving the hotel.
It was abominably stupid to continue loitering forever, so finally the young girl concluded to go down into the hotel lobby and watch the people moving in and out, until her family at last made up their minds to start. She would not go back into the sitting room again to argue the question with them, but leave a little note near Jean's hat explaining where she might be found.
In the corridor leading to the open front door Frieda discovered an inconspicuous place and was entirely happy observing the hotel guests and the small vista of the Roman street which she could see like a picture through the opening.
An Italian priest passed by, wearing a solemn, long black robe tied about his waist with a huge cord and a round, stiff black hat with a broad brim and a flat crown. Frieda stared at him curiously. Then a young fellow, evidently an artist from his costume, appeared, and, after hesitating a moment, entered the hotel corridor. A few moments afterwards he was joined by an older woman with two daughters in whom Frieda at once became deeply interested. They were English girls—she guessed this by a kind of instinct, they were so tall and fair and slender, with drooping shoulders and pink and white complexions. The little party left the hotel together and then there was a short interval in which nothing happened to interest Frieda particularly, except the foreign look of the people moving past in the street.
Weary of waiting, she was glancing at a queer carved clock on the wall opposite her, when unexpectedly a fragrance enveloped her. Without understanding why, the young girl felt a sudden wave of homesick yearning for the Rainbow Ranch. Why should she think of home so suddenly? For a few seconds Frieda was unconscious of any special reason, and then, turning, she beheld standing in thedoorway a small Italian boy, beautiful as one of Raphael's cherubs, with a great basket of Italian violets hanging on his arm.
Frieda smiled. No wonder she had recalled her home and the violet beds planted next the Lodge in the days when she had expected to add to the family fortunes by selling flowers. This was before there was ever a thought of a gold mine hidden in Rainbow Creek.
What fun to buy a lot of violets for Ruth and the girls and have great bunches of them to present, if ever they did decide to come down stairs!
A western girl, Frieda Ralston had always been accustomed to doing things for herself. So now it never occurred to her to call a "facchino" to accomplish her errand, although this Italian word for porter was one of the few words that Frieda had already acquired from her phrase book.
Besides, was the boy not standing right there by the door? Quickly she moved toward him. But at the same moment another customer must have called from the street or else some servant in the hotel frightened the child, for he slipped away and in an instant was half down the block.And Frieda followed close behind, entirely oblivious of anything except her present purpose. The boy ran lightly along and danced around a corner like a sunbeam. There, where he made the turn, a fountain stood in the center of the square that Frieda noticed particularly so there might be no danger of her getting lost. Fortunately another customer stopped the lad when, quite out of breath, Frieda finally managed to catch up with him.
She didn't know the Italian words which should be employed in purchasing violets, but fortunately the sign language was the original one with all the peoples of the world. Very soon the basket of violets transferred from the child's arm was swinging on the young girl's. When, with a smile and a "buon giorno" (good morning) at the American Signorita's prettiness and amazing wealth, the lad vanished as abruptly as he had arrived.
Frieda glowed with pleasure. The violets were so exquisite, the sky so blue, and the air so sparkling. Surely by the time of her return to the hotel her family would be ready to begin their adventures. And there, just ahead, was the fountain that she had observedso as not to make any mistake about getting back safely.
Walking on in the direction of the fountain for a moment Frieda stood admiring its beauty. But not for long of course, because Ruth and the girls must never discover her absence. Turning away from the fountain, straightway her puzzle began, for there were now half a dozen streets leading from this central square and the wanderer had no idea which one contained their hotel. Certainly Rome was very queer and unlike any other city she had ever seen before. Many of the streets seemed to twist and curve, winding in and out among the others. Nothing seemed to go straight ahead in any given direction. However, Frieda, having concluded that one of them looked a little more familiar than the others, tried it first. There was nothing within a block, however, that resembled the Hotel l'Italia and she was convinced of only having followed the boy for a single street. She had best return to the fountain and start forth again. But by the time one has followed this method of procedure three or four times without success the effect is apt to be disheartening.
FONTANONE DELL' ACQUA FELICE
SEVERAL tears watered the violets. Frieda Ralston was seated on one of a flight of stone steps bordering the antique fountain, with an immense stone lion on either side of her and in high eminence behind her the figures of the prophets. But Frieda was not in the slightest degree interested at this moment in Roman art. For one hour, recorded on the face of the small watch in her pocket, she had been engaged in wandering up and down likely looking streets in search of their hotel, only to return to her starting place again. And this when she had only gone a block and a half away in the first place.
Neither had the wayfarer trusted entirely to her own judgment. In spite of Ruth's repeated warnings against talking to strangers, she had once accosted a man in a queer uniform, thinking him a policeman. He wore a dark blue coat, blue-gray trousers, a white cap and belt, so how could a newcomer haveknown him to be a member of the Roman garrison? However, when once the soldier had discovered Frieda's desire, his directions were so explicit, so accompanied by much waving of his hand and statements of "destra" (right) and "sinistra" (left), that Frieda believed her way clear at last. Nevertheless, though doing exactly what she believed she had been told, the result was the same. Frieda had again to return to her fountain, a now painfully familiar spot. In the course of this wandering, however, she had passed an ancient church with a high flight of steps, where she paused to gaze for a few moments in awe and wonder. A number of pilgrims were climbing the wooden steps on their knees and children were running about among them offering rosaries and small wooden images for sale. Frieda had purchased a St. Joseph and then regretted her investment, for at least half the crowd of children followed her back to her resting place. They were still whining about her begging for pennies, when some time ago she had given them all the change she had. Yet they wouldnotleave her alone. Happening to glance down at her arm Frieda now made the painful discovery that her beloved gold-link purse had disappeared. Still the poor child had her violets!
They were no great comfort, however, for, sighing, she glanced through an opening among her persecutors to see if aid might be found anywhere. There not far away did she not behold the familiar figures of Richard Grant and his mother, the acquaintances who had been so scorned toward the close of their sea voyage.
With a little extra energy the lost girl might have called to them. For they were loitering and studying the pages of their guide-book, evidently on their way to visit the famous church which had previously attracted her attention. Once Frieda believed that she saw them glance in the direction of her fountain. But their purpose must have changed, for the next instant they moved off toward the church.
Nevertheless, in spite of her need, the wanderer did not stir or call out. For how could she ask assistance of people to whom she had been so rude and overbearing but a short time before? And she was so near their hotel, surely Ruth would send some one to look for her or come herself in a few minutes. No, she must wait a while longer and perhaps, when rested, if no one had found her, try to discover her own way again. OftenJim Colter had told the Ranch girls to search for things first with their heads before beginning to explore with their hands and feet. Yet it was pretty difficult to think clearly, and when weary and discouraged to remember how one has managed to get lost. This habit of getting separated from her family was a trying one, and certainly this time Ruth and the girls would be angry as well as frightened.
"Don't Be Funny, Dick; I'm Lost Again""Don't Be Funny, Dick; I'm Lost Again"
Not long after Frieda was wishing sincerely that she had put her pride in her pocket and begged Dick's and Mrs. Grant's help in spite of all that had passed. She was frightened as well as tired. The children had run away on finding that the Signorita's purse had gone. But a few yards from her seat an Italian had been curling his black mustache for quite an extraordinary length of time, staring all the while at the little blonde girl on the fountain steps.
"If you don't mind speaking to me this once, Miss Frieda, would you explain just why you are ornamenting the steps of this particular fountain alone for so long a time?" a friendly voice inquired.
Frieda jumped to her feet. There were the amused brown eyes, the square jaw and the athletic shoulders of Mr. Richard Grant.However, he was at the present moment engaged in holding his red Baedeker open and in slowly reading aloud: "This fountain is known, I believe, as 'Fontanone dell' Acqua Felice,' which, if I recall my Latin correctly, means 'water of happiness.'"
"Don't be funny, Dick, please," begged Frieda, forgetting titles and squeezing two left-over tears out of her eyes; "I'm lost again!"
"I rather supposed so," the young man replied, "so I left mother to moon among the Saints in the church nearby, while I came back to look after you. You see, we thought we recognized you sitting here and yet could hardly believe our eyes. Tell me what has happened and where you wish to go?"
A moment later, after a second careful consultation of his guide book, Frieda was escorted through the streets of Rome by a youth, who was unconcernedly carrying her large basket of violets in one hand and feeding her chocolates from a box which he held in the other. He did not seem to bear the least malice, and Frieda herself was extremely cheerful, considering her talent for getting into scrapes.
She even promised gratefully to accept the gift of a red Baedeker of her own and not to depend on their chaperon's possession of one.
Arriving at the Hotel l'Italia Frieda begged that Dick Grant come in with her and let her family know of his presence in Rome and of his kindness to her. In reality she wished for a stranger to be present so that she might in a measure escape the disapproval awaiting her.
And this time Frieda was correct in her judgment, for Ruth and the girls were more irritated with her than alarmed. And even after her explanation as to just how the accident happened Ruth seemed unreasonable. Actually, right in Richard Grant's presence, she scolded Frieda more than she had before in years. However, the young man did have the good sense to turn his back and be engaged in earnest conversation with Jack during the worst of Ruth's tirade, for which the younger Miss Ralston was truly grateful. She was also grateful to her sister Jack for inquiring after Mrs. Grant just as though nothing unpleasant had occurred between them. For Jack asked either that Mrs. Grant come to see them or that they be permitted to call on her.
When Dick had finally departed to join his mother (who must have been weary of waiting, except that her good nature was as certain as her bad taste), Frieda found as usual that it was Jean's teasing which was harder to bear than any scolding. For just as they were at last about to leave their hotel and right in the presence of the English lady and her two daughters who were returning, Jean pulled a long pale blue ribbon from her pocket (one of Frieda's own ribbons) and tied it in a kind of lasso about the younger girl's wrist.
"Better keep a string attached to our one ewe lamb, don't you think, Ruth dear?" she inquired innocently. And the strangers stared with a kind of cold surprise, when Ruth was obliged to produce the pair of scissors she always carried in her hand bag to cut the knot, so close had the ribbon been drawn.
For the rest of the day Frieda kept close to her sister and Olive, feeling too deeply wounded with the other members of their party to care to have much to say to them.
AFTERNOON TEA
"ON Pincian Hill my father feeds his flocks," remarked Frieda pensively one afternoon several days later.
And while Ruth, Jack and Jean tried their best to keep from laughing aloud, Olive had to explain.
"It was not Pincian hills but Grampian, Frieda dear, and the speech refers to Greece and not Italy."
But Frieda was too blissfully happy and deliciously entertained to care either about her mistakes or the cause of the others' laughter.
For at last the Ranch girls were having afternoon tea in the beautiful gardens of the Pincio. Near them a military band was playing, and in their vicinity apparently most of the best people in Rome, besides the summer travelers, had gathered. There were hundreds of carriages moving to and fro and stopping now and then while friends exchanged greetings. A short half hour agolittle King Victor Emmanuel, whose stature is the only small part of him, and his beautiful big Queen had driven by, giving the four girls and their chaperon one of the most delightful thrills of their whole trip. For no matter how good Democrats we Americans are at heart, the first sight of royalty cannot fail to be interesting. It is only after the royal persons have been viewed often enough and long enough that they appear like ordinary persons.
Then, beneath the hill of the Pincio, lay the most wonderful of all the panoramas of Rome. There was St. Peter's again (and already the Ranch party had spent one entire day in this largest and perhaps most beautiful church in the world). There the castle of St. Angelo, the roof of the Pantheon, and innumerable other churches and towers, which Ruth even after an almost painful study of her map of Rome was not able to name. But more fascinating than the buildings, at least to Jacqueline Ralston's outdoor loving vision, were the far-off hills with their groupings of cypress, palms and pines.
The Rainbow Ranch party had found seats at a table not far from the small café in the center of the gardens. And although delectablesweets were being served to them, together with very poor tea, not even Frieda had been able to display her usual appetite.
Unexpectedly a hand was placed on Jean Bruce's shoulder, and turning in surprise she saw standing by her side no other person than the Princess Colonna! If Jean had thought her American-Italian Princess beautiful on shipboard, the sight of her now in her Parisian toilet almost took away her breath. Waiting a few feet away were her companions, two young Italians of about twenty and twenty-five years of age, besides an elderly man, who was nearer sixty years old than half a century.
"I thought my little Miss Bruce was to let me know when she and her friends reached Rome," the Princess began, shaking hands with Ruth and the other three girls, while continuing to smile upon Jean. "Is it that you do not wish more of my society?"
Jean, having regained her self-possession, shook her head. "That is such a ridiculous question I shan't pretend to answer it," she returned. "It is only that we have been such a few days in Rome and thought perhaps you—"
The Princess made a slight motion of herhand toward the three men back of her so that they approached. "Ihave not a short memory, butyou," she replied. "But permit me to introduce to you my husband, the Prince Colonna, and his two nephews."
Fortunately at this instant no one in the group chanced to be gazing toward Frieda. For although the older girls had sufficient self-control to conceal any expressions of surprise, this was not true of her. At this moment her blue eyes opened wider than usual.
The Prince Colonna with his snow-white hair and stately manner, bowing courteously over Ruth Drew's hand, was assuredly twice his wife's age.
Jean, Olive and Jack were feeling sufficiently embarrassed by the meeting with the two Italian nephews. In less than a moment, however, Jean gave a slight but characteristic shrug of her shoulders and then a sigh of relief. For both Signor Leon, the younger, and his brother Giovanni Colonna spoke excellent English.
"We were so afraid we should not be able to talk to you," Jean confessed so frankly that immediately any awkwardness in the situation passed away. "You see, we Americansare dreadfully stupid about foreign languages. We never realize how important they are until we come abroad, and that is apt to occur after our school days have passed. Nevertheless, we dearly love to hear ourselves talk."
This was a long speech for the commencement of a conversation with strangers, but Jean was soon glad to have had the first opportunity. For, drawing a chair close beside hers, Signor Giovanni Colonna never gave her much of a chance afterwards. It seemed, by the young man's own confession, that he had always wanted to know American girls. His only acquaintance so far had been with his aunt, and of course she had increased his desire. But the Princess had lately told him and his brother of meeting on the steamer four delightful western girls whom they might possibly see later on in Rome. From the first Giovanni seemed to prefer Jean's society, leaving Leon to the other three girls to entertain. The entire conversation between the young man and Jean could hardly have lasted ten minutes.
Before saying farewell, however, the Princess had made an engagement to call on Ruth at her hotel on the following afternoon withthe promise that she should bring the four girls to her villa later in the week.
Unfortunately Jack laughed when the two young men were safely out of hearing, though still in sight. They were both below medium height, with clear, dark skins and curling black hair, and to Jack's American ideas were almost too well dressed and formal of manner, although Giovanni was really handsome except for a scar across his left cheek.
"They are rather funny, don't you think?" she inquired idly and without any special meaning. "I don't believe I could ever learn to like foreigners as much as I do American men. They are not so big for one thing, are they, Ruth?" And Ruth, before whose eyes Jim Colter's big figure straightway loomed, shook her head.
Jean flushed slightly. She had liked the two young men fairly well. Moreover, they were her Princess' nephews. Anyhow, her cousin's speech had irritated her, although Jack had already forgotten what she had said and was once more gazing in fascination at the scene about her.
"Your dislike of foreigners does not include Englishmen, does it, cousin of mine?" Jean queried with a too great pretense of innocence.
Jack's clear gray eyes faced Jean's dark ones in such surprise that Jean's were the ones to droop.
"If you mean Frank Kent or Captain Madden, why of course I like both of them, don't you?" she returned. And then, "Whatever in the world, Jean, has made you so cross about Captain Madden? I wonder what idea you have in your head! If you knew anything against him on shipboard why didn't you tell me?"
Jean discovered that Ruth was frowning upon her more severely than usual. Besides, what answer had she to make to her cousin? Really, she had no actual reason for disliking their new acquaintance and the impression that had once or twice come into her mind on shipboard may have been absurd. Ruth had thought it ridiculous and had not agreed with her. Now certainly the stupidest possible thing shecoulddo would be to permit Jack to guess her suspicion.
"Oh, of course I like them too, I was only bad tempered," Jean replied, giving Jack's gloved hand a penitent squeeze and thinking how unusually beautiful she was looking this afternoon. Somehow no one appeared so well in white as Jack did. She was so fine andpure, so different in many ways from other girls. It would never dawn on her to dream of evil in man or woman. Jean found herself blushing.
"I like Frank Kent better than most anybody, Jack dear. He is one of our oldest and truest friends, I feel sure. Sometimes I wish we were going to see him before arriving in England," she murmured.
Half an hour later, driving slowly down the long hill away from the wonderful Pincian gardens into the city of Rome, Ruth and the four girls were equally surprised at seeing a stiff, military figure on horseback lift his hat to them.
"It is Captain Madden, I do believe! I didn't know he was to be in Rome!" Frieda exclaimed, and no one made answer.
Later that evening, however, when a great box of her favorite red roses containing the English army officer's card mysteriously arrived for Jack at their hotel Jean did not know whether to be glad or sorry for having held her tongue. Of course Jack was pleased, just as any other girl would have been with the attention. But for the life of her Jean could not have explained why she felt so convinced that in some fashion or other thisCaptain Madden was to be the evil genius of their European trip. However, Ruth Drew was her cousin Jack's chaperon and she did not appear concerned. That night, after having thought the subject over for an hour when the other girls and Ruth were probably asleep, Jean finally came to this conclusion: undoubtedly she must be more foolish than anybody else. So no matter what she herself believed, if Ruth and Olive remained unsuspicious of Captain Madden's attentions the wrong thinking must be her own.
JACK
TEN days later if Ruth and Jean had again talked this same matter over together, it is possible that their points of view might not have been so far apart. But this was difficult, since Jean was then spending several days with the Princess Colonna at her villa several miles from the city of Rome.
From the hour of meeting with Captain Madden near the gardens of the Pincio, apparently his time had been entirely at the disposal of the Rainbow Ranch party. And Ruth having completely banished her momentary fear that his kindness meant more than a passing fancy for Jack, was at first glad enough to accept his attentions. If she thus revealed a lack of wisdom, there would be time enough for regret later on.
It was extremely agreeable to have some one to act as their guide through Rome. For in spite of her winter of study Ruth found herself becoming dreadfully confused.Rome was so overpowering that actually there were hundreds of things one wished to do all at once. Then the girls developed such different interests! She and Olive desired to make a real study of the many churches in Rome, while Jack curiously enough, as she had known nothing of art before, was enthusiastic over the old sculpture. Jean and Frieda had no great fancy for the antique, but were open in their preference for visiting the shops and for driving about to the wonderful gardens and villas about Rome. So every now and then Ruth, departing from her original rule of keeping their entire party together, had allowed Captain Madden to have charge of several of the girls, while she went elsewhere with the others.
And more often than any other way it turned out that Frieda was in the habit of accompanying Captain Madden and her sister. For Frieda's attitude toward their elderly friend had lately changed. From her former dislike she had now become his warm advocate. And if Ruth Drew had been suspicious or even properly worldly-minded this fact in itself should have begun to open her eyes, so assiduously had Captain Madden beencultivating Frieda's liking. When a box of flowers arrived for Jack, or sometimes for Ruth, a box of sweets came with them for the youngest of the Ranch girls. In their morning riding parties Captain Madden announced his preference for keeping by Frieda's side and leaving Jack to ride a little in advance as she seemed to prefer.
Once, however, Frieda had innocently repeated a conversation held between herself and her escort, which made Jack angry and Ruth uncomfortable. For it appeared that she had told Captain Madden the entire history of their Rainbow mine, even to the amount of gold taken out of it the previous year. And this, when Jack had particularly asked her younger sister never to discuss their affairs with strangers, and especially their recent wealth. Older now and realizing the good taste of this, Frieda, in explaining the subject to their chaperon, was puzzled to remember how she had been drawn into the conversation. Of course no questions had been asked by Captain Madden, he was too much of a gentleman, but somehow in telling him of their past life on the ranch and of their acquaintance with his cousin, Frank Kent, naturally she had spoken of their mine.To Ruth this explanation did not appear unreasonable. Besides it did not seem of importance then whether or not Captain Madden might be too much concerned in their private affairs.
Afterwards an evening came while Jean was away at the Princess' villa when the Ranch girls' chaperon had her first awakening. The incident was a slight one in itself, yet aroused great uneasiness.
Almost every pilgrim who makes his way to Rome has the desire to see its ancient ruins by moonlight. And this had been Olive's wish ever since their arrival in the eternal city. Her suggestion was that some night they drive around the broken walls of the Coliseum and afterwards wander about inside the Forum Romanum. Surely in the moonlight it would be easier to forget the modern world! Perhaps one might even conjure up a mental picture of the great days of pagan Rome, when these same decaying arches, columns and temples were monuments and buildings of wonderful beauty. For it was past them that the Roman generals used once to lead their victorious cohorts bringing home captive the barbarian armies of the western world.
One evening, rather laughing over her friend's enthusiasm, Jacqueline Ralston had repeated Olive's ambition to Captain Madden. And straightway he had suggested that the moonlight excursion actually take place, and that he be permitted to act as escort. The moon was now almost in the full and certainly Rome was as well worth seeing under its glamor as under day-time skies.
Therefore, twenty-four hours afterward, at about nine o'clock, a party of seven persons set out from the Ranch girls' hotel. Ruth was riding in one carriage with Captain Madden and Jack, while Mrs. Grant, Frieda, Olive and Dick were together in the other.
No one talked much. Even Frieda and Mrs. Grant, though not specially susceptible to beauty, were somehow silenced. The road to the Coliseum led away from the crowded centers of Rome into a kind of eerie stillness. Although the radiance of the moon seemed partially to have obscured the stars, the night was brilliantly clear. Twice both carriages drove about the outside walls of the Coliseum. And through its broken spaces the riders could catch strange glimpses of the big amphitheater, the crumbling tiers of seats, and now and then the outline of asmall stone chamber overgrown with moss and lichen, where the early Christian martyrs, were once imprisoned before being fed to the lions.
In the course of the drive Ruth and Captain Madden spoke to one another occasionally, commenting on the unusual beauty of the night and the weird and fantastic shadows cast by the moon. But Ruth noticed that Jack hardly made a remark and that she was pale. This made no special impression, for Jack was probably tired. She was wearing her long white cloth coat and a small white hat and for some reason or other looked almost younger than Frieda.
But by and by Jack asked that their carriage stop at the entrance to the Forum. There a guide could be found with a lantern, should the moonlight prove insufficient to light their way about the ruins.
Captain Madden first assisted Ruth to descend from the carriage and then something in his manner as he turned to help Jack, gave Ruth a sudden feeling of discomfort. What could he have to say to her which her chaperon should not hear? And yet Captain Madden did whisper to Jack in a low voice as though there were some secret understanding between them.
A moment later, when the second carriage had driven up and its occupants were alighting, for just a moment Ruth Drew had a brief chance to speak to Olive alone.
"Don't leave Jack by herself tonight if you can help it, and on no account let her be with Captain Madden without the rest of us." Then, scarcely waiting for Olive's reply, Ruth moved off slipping her own arm firmly through Jack's.
Certainly the next hour afforded no opportunity for interchange of confidences between Jacqueline Ralston and her new friend. But the girl seemed glad enough to have Ruth and Olive close beside her. Now and then she even asked aid of one or the other of them. For stumbling about in semi-darkness among crumbling earth and stone seemed to be making her nervous.
Then came a moment when both Olive and Ruth lost sight of Jack completely. It was the simplest possible accident. They were in a place of shadows, lit only by the moon, which made the spaces behind the ruined buildings of almost impenetrable blackness. And although their guide and Dick Grant carried lanterns, it was difficult to catch their reflections unless one were near.
Olive, believing Ruth to be with her friend, had drawn closer to the guide to listen to some bit of information that he was struggling to impart to Mrs. Grant. While Ruth, thinking that Olive was discharging her task, and finding Dick Grant and Frieda engaging in one of their frequent quarrels, had interposed herself between them.
It was at this time that Jack, wearier than she cared to confess, sat down on one of the steps beyond the Arch of Titus, descending toward the Coliseum. For the moment a cloud had passed half over the moon, making the ancient ruin before her appear more gigantic and mysterious. The next instant a figure seated itself beside her and Captain Madden's voice spoke:
"You think you don't care for poetry, Miss Jack, but surely tonight is made for poetry, or poetry is made for tonight. Do you know these lines of Byron's in Childe Harold?"
Captain Madden moved nearer the girl so that he might see into her face. Then he pointed toward the magical scene close by.