THE DANGER OF WEALTH
The truth of the matter was that Frieda Ralston would have been somewhat
happier and certainly a great deal better off in many respects could she
now have turned back the pages of her existence for a few months and
been again that same little yellow-haired girl who was the beloved of
every man, woman and child within the thousand acres of the Rainbow
Ranch, for Frieda had lately been getting into a kind of mischief that
is of a serious nature, whether practiced by a young girl or by very
much older persons. She had been spending far too much money.
After the trip to New York and the purchase of the blue silk gown and
velvet coat a number of weeks before, the desire for beautiful clothes
awoke in Frieda. Remember that she was only a Western ranch girl and had
never dreamed of such splendors as the New York shops afforded, neither
did she have any very clear idea of the real value of money. Because
gold had been discovered on their ranch and because Jack was sending her
fifty dollars as pin money each month, Frieda considered that their
wealth must be fabulous and so she had contracted the very dangerous
habit of buying whatever she wished without considering the cost, and
the way she managed to do this was by making bills!
Earlier in the season, when the girls had found it difficult to go into
town for every little purchase it became necessary for them to make,
Ruth had opened a charge account for the three ranch girls at one of the
best of the New York shops, but the bills were expected to be sent to
the girls and to be paid out of their allowances. Jean and Olive had
made only a few necessary purchases, but though no one else knew of it,
Frieda had lately been buying with utter recklessness.
Indeed, the gorgeous kimono which had just electrified the other two
ranch girls was only one of a number of articles that had arrived that
very afternoon and been delivered in the care of Mollie Johnson. Hanging
up in Mollie’s closet at the same instant was an equally charming
garment, almost of the same kind as Frieda’s, save that it was pink and
but lately presented by Frieda to her best friend.
So it would appear that even though Frieda might be keeping the letter
of the law in not speaking of their wealth at Primrose Hall, she was
certainly not obeying it in spirit, and indeed she had broken her
promise altogether on the afternoon when she and Mollie had been alone
together, while Olive and Jean were drinking tea at “The Towers.”
Not that she had meant to do this when Mollie came in; far from it. The
story had just leaked out quite innocently at first. For Frieda
naturally began the conversation with her friend by telling her that
Jean and Olive had gone to tea with the Harmons, and then that they had
learned to know the Harmons because they had rented their ranch to them
the summer before. From the ranch the speaker traveled very naturally to
the Yellowstone and the story of Jack, told many times before, and
coming back again to the ranch ended with Mr. Harmon’s effort to buy the
Rainbow Mine.
When this word “mine” popped out, Frieda had stopped suddenly, but it
was soul satisfying to observe how her friend Mollie’s eyes had grown
wider and bigger with admiration and surprise at her words. “Why, Frieda
Ralston,” Mollie had reproached at once, “you don’t mean to tell me that
you are an heiress as well as everything else that is interesting! Why,
you have let me think that you were poor before, though I have wondered
sometimes about the lovely things you have been buying. Do please tell
me whether your mine is copper or silver or pure gold?”
To Frieda’s credit it must be stated that when Mollie thus began her
very natural investigation of her story, she felt at once both sorry and
frightened. “It is a secret, Mollie,” she began; “that is, I don’t see
any sense in its being, but I have promised Jack and Jean and Ruth Drew
not to talk about our money at Primrose Hall, since we would rather have
our friends just know us as ranch girls, but we really have a gold mine.
Do you see why I shouldn’t talk about it?”
Earnestly Mollie shook her head.
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t, so long as I have promised,” Frieda
conceded; “but now I have told you of it without meaning to, I am glad,
for I do just want to talk about it with somebody and you are my dearest
friend and I wish you to know everything about me.”
Frieda might have said that she wished Mollie to know all the nice
things about her, for it really is not our faults that we long to pour
into the ears of our friends.
The invalid, who had been stretched on the couch with a bad cold for the
past hour or so, now curled her feet up under her and rested her chin on
her hands. “Want me to tell you every single thing about our mine?” she
demanded. “It is quite like a fairy story.”
And of course there is nobody in the world (and certainly not Mollie
Johnson) who does not like to hear of the finding of a mine.
“Cross your heart and body that you’ll never betray me; say you wish you
may die if you do,” Frieda abjured. And promising everything and making
all the mystic signs necessary to eternal secrecy, Mollie then had
listened to the unfolding of the fairy tale.
Frieda had not really intended to make her story a fairy tale, but she
had no more idea of how much money the Rainbow Mine produced than a
baby, and of course with the telling of her tale the size of the nuggets
that Jim was getting out of the mine each week naturally grew.
“You see,” Frieda explained, warming with her subject, “we simply don’t
know how rich we are. Jim, our overseer at the ranch, who now looks
after our mine, says you never can tell at first how much a mine may
yield. Perhaps we may be millionaires some day.”
The word millionaire was an entirely new one in Frieda’s vocabulary,
which she had learned since coming to Primrose Hall, but certainly it
had a magnificent sound and made Mollie blink.
“It sounds just too wonderful,” the little Southern girl sighed, “and I
do declare, Frieda, that if I didn’t love you more than most anybody I
should feel envious. We aren’t rich a bit; my father is just a lawyer in
Richmond and while we have a pretty house and all that, why we have some
other brothers and sisters, and father says all he can afford to do is
to let Lucy and me have two years apiece at Primrose Hall. He can’t give
us money for the wonderful clothes you buy. Won’t I be proud if you can
make me a visit in the Christmas holidays to show you and your lovely
things to my friends!” And Mollie began twisting into curls the ends of
her Frieda’s yellow braids and looking up at her with an even increased
admiration.
Such a rush of recklessness and affection then seized hold on the
youngest Miss Ralston, that without even discussing the question with
Mollie, she immediately arose from her couch and rushing to her desk
indited a letter to a New York firm asking that the two kimonos be sent
her at once with slippers and stockings to match. For her beloved Mollie
was just too sweet and sympathetic for anything and quite unlike adopted
sisters and relations, who scolded and put on airs when one’s affairs
went a bit wrong. Frieda would have liked at the instant of writing her
letter to have poured all her wealth at her friend’s feet, but all that
she could do more was to invite her to come into town the next week to
be her guest at the matinee and lunch and to help her make a few more
purchases.
For Frieda’s December bill had not yet arrived and her check had, and so
for the time being, like many another person, she felt fairly well off,
although her allowance for the past two months had melted away like wax
without her being able to pay back a single cent of the money to either
Jean or Olive, which they had advanced to help with her first
extravagance, the blue silk dress and velvet coat.
One of the subjects that a great many people discuss, with a good deal
more money at their disposal than Frieda had at present, is the way that
five-dollar bills have of disappearing in New York City. So by the time
Frieda had paid for three tickets to the matinee, as the girls were of
course compelled to bring a chaperon into town with them, and three
lunches at a fashionable restaurant, there was so little of her money
left out of her original amount that again she was obliged to do some
charging on her account, in order to get the few more things that she
and Mollie decided might be needed in case she paid the visit in
Richmond toward the close of December.
On the way back to Primrose Hall, however, seated on the train and
feeling a bit weary, Frieda wished that she had not spent this extra
money. Now she wouldn’t be able to pay her debts until January, and what
with Christmas coming, there would be so many presents for others that
she would wish to buy! So once Frieda sighed, but when Mollie, giving
her a hug, demanded to know what worried her, she would not say. For how
confess that money matters were worrying her but a few days after the
time when she had announced herself as an heiress? Of course Jack and
Ruth would see that she was supplied with extra money at Christmas time,
if they should consent to let her make the trip south, and out of this
amount she would certainly save enough to pay her bills, without having
to confess her extravagances. For Frieda knew that Jack and Ruth would
both be angry and ashamed of her for breaking her promise and for buying
things which she did not really need.