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[Illustration: "JACK, DON'T YOU KNOW ME?"]
THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES
The Ranch Girls In Europe
--BY--
MARGARET VANDERCOOK
ILLUSTRATED BY
MARY PEMBERTON GINTHER
THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA
Copyright, 1914, by
THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. BIRDS OF PASSAGE 9
II. SALVE! 25
III. NEW ACQUAINTANCES 35
IV. THINGS PRESENT AND THINGS TO COME 44
V. A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE 54
VI. RUTH'S ATTITUDE 63
VII. GIBRALTAR 73
VIII. A MORE IMPORTANT OBLIGATION 82
IX. REFLECTIONS 94
X. ITALIAN VIOLETS 105
XI. FONTANONE DELL' ACQUA FELICE 115
XII. AFTERNOON TEA 122
XIII. JACK 131
XIV. THE PRINCESS' MYTHOLOGICAL BALL 143
XV. A SURPRISE 156
XVI. LEAVING ROME 167
XVII. THE OVERSEER OF THE RAINBOW RANCH 182
XVIII. RELIEF OR REGRET? 192
XIX. RECONCILIATIONS 200
XX. AN ENGLISH COUNTRY PLACE 209
XXI. MIDNIGHT CONFIDENCES 217
XXII. OLIVE'S ANSWER 226
XXIII. THE WEDDING DAY 234
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"JACK, DON'T YOU KNOW ME?" _Frontispiece_
PAGE
HER TONE WAS THAT OF ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY 19
"DON'T BE FUNNY, DICK; I'M LOST AGAIN" 119
RUTH STARTED UP THE AISLE ON LORD KENT'S ARM 236
The Ranch Girls in Europe
CHAPTER I
BIRDS OF PASSAGE
"IT seems incredible, girls, but I simply can't find her."
The young woman who made this remark was standing on the deck of an
out-going ocean steamer. The great boat was ploughing its way through
the Ambrose channel, leaving the long nose of Sandy Hook a thin line of
white on one side. Fading away into the background like dim gray ghosts
were the giant towers of New York City. The speaker was wearing a long,
gray traveling coat with a blue lining, and a felt hat of the same
colors rested close against her ash-brown hair.
Immediately three girls turned to face her. The minute before they had
been leaning against the ship's railing. One of them revealed a
suspicion of tears in her curiously dark eyes; the second had her lips
shut unnecessarily tight to hide her emotion; while the third showed
only rejoicing.
"Dear me, Ruth Drew," this girl now began in mock tragic tones, "you
don't suppose that our infant has fallen overboard already, do you? Or
do you suspect some one of having run away with her? At this present
moment I presume that Frieda Ralston is in our stateroom. But it is
possible that she is engaged in making the acquaintance of some one on
shipboard whom she has decided she is crazy to know. The most probable
supposition, however, is that she is trying to persuade a steward to
give her something to eat. For over an hour ago she informed me that she
was starving to death and wished to open one of her boxes of candy
before leaving the New York pier. She is sure to turn up in a moment or
so. Do please stay here with us and help Jack and Olive mourn. They are
shedding tears over having to say farewell to the 'Stars and Stripes,'
and incidentally to our best-beloved friends. But I can't even show a
polite amount of emotion I am so happy over starting off on our trip at
last."
Here Jean Bruce, one of the four Ranch girls from the Rainbow Lodge,
abruptly ceased talking. She had been noticing for the past few minutes
that a stranger had been listening to her conversation with a kind of
well-bred amusement. And as she happened to be the person whom Jean had
most admired since coming aboard the Martha Washington, it seeming
annoying to be the subject of her smiles. However, Jean should not have
been offended, for her sallies had awakened the first animation in the
young woman's face since the hour of their sailing. Until recently she
had been standing in a listless attitude within a few feet of the Ranch
girls, apparently uninterested in anything in the world. In her slender
arms she carried what looked like an entire tree of American Beauty
roses. And now and then she had pressed her face against them. The
traveler's costume had first attracted Jean's attention--it was so
beautiful and fashionable. The coat was of dull blue silk; the small hat
emphasized the classic outline of the young woman's haughtily poised
head with its crown of pale-gold hair, and at a respectful distance a
maid and a courier waited in attendance upon her.
Jack and Olive, even in the midst of their absorption, had been brought
to admit that the stranger's appearance was fascinating. While to Jean's
more romantic fancy she suggested no less a heroine than the Princess
Flavia in "The Prisoner of Zenda."
In the moment of Jean's silence Jacqueline Ralston drew their chaperon's
arm through hers, giving it a reproachful squeeze.
"If you are going to begin worrying over us, Ruth, in the very first
hour of what Aunt Ellen called 'Our tower,' whatever is to become of you
before we are through? I am sure Frieda is all right. And this time Jean
is telling the truth. Olive and I have been feeling low in our minds
over saying good-by to Jim and Ralph and Miss Winthrop and Peter and
Jessica and a few others. But just the same we are as happy over the
prospect of our trip as Jean Bruce is, every single bit!"
During this moment Ruth had again allowed herself to be silenced, but
now she moved determinedly back from Jacqueline's detaining grasp.
"I don't think you girls understand the situation," Ruth argued a trifle
impatiently. "Of course I have already searched for Frieda in every
probable place on the ship and have had the stewardess helping me. She
simply is not to be found! I don't like Frieda's running off from the
rest of us in this fashion and I don't understand it. Where did you
leave her, Jean, when you came on board the second time after going
ashore for another farewell to Mr. Colter? I was so busy having our
steamer trunks put into our staterooms that I could not join you." And
for an instant, remembering that there were other reasons why she did
not wish to be present at this final parting with Jim Colter, Ruth Drew
hesitated and flushed. Would her New England conscience never allow her
to be satisfied with telling only half the truth?
But Jean, forgetting the presence of her embarrassing audience, shook
her head in protest.
"Frieda didn't come on board with me. I came on alone. Why, Jim and
Ralph had fairly to shove me up the gang-plank before the last 'all
aboard' was sung out! Frieda came on with Jack and Olive several
minutes before. That is, I thought so. Surely you can't mean----"
In this same instant Olive Van Mater's arm slipped around Jacqueline
Ralston's waist. For although almost a year had passed since Jack's
recovery from her long illness and operation, she was not yet entirely
strong. Frequently she had to use a cane in walking. Today, however, she
had insisted that she was able to get along without it. So Olive feared
that this sudden and surprising news of her little sister might prove
too much for her. It was characteristic of the two friends' relations
that Olive's first thought in this crisis was not so much for Frieda as
for Jack.
Nevertheless her friend did not yet require her aid. Although at Jean's
surprising words Jacqueline Ralston had turned pale, she was perhaps not
more so than Ruth and the other two girls. However, she was evidently
doing her best to hold on to her self-control and not to allow the
moment's bewilderment and fright to overwhelm her.
"No, Frieda did not come on the ship with us the second time, Ruth," she
explained, turning quietly toward their chaperon. "But please do not let
us be alarmed. She must have come aboard by herself beforehand. For I
can remember hearing her say her last good-by to Jim while I was still
talking to Peter. Frieda is nearly seventeen; why, it is ridiculous to
suppose that she would be so foolish as to let the steamer sail off
without her! Besides, wasn't Jim right there! And isn't he always
possessed of the idea that we will be late for things and that unknown
catastrophes will overtake us? If necessary he would have put Frieda on
board by main force. So let's go find her."
Very quickly, then, the little party of four turned from their former
places. And Jean's face, which had been the gayest in the group at the
beginning of this conversation, was now the most terrified.
"If Frieda Ralston isn't on board the Martha Washington with us, she
most certainly is not on land with any of our friends," Jean insisted,
"for I know that Frieda left them on the pier before I did. So if she
isn't on this ship something dreadful must have happened to her; some
one must have stolen her away. Oh, what on earth shall we do?"
Jean was following the others in such a complete state of panic that she
hardly knew what she was saying. So at first she scarcely heard the low
voice sounding close to her ears. Only one thought occupied her mind.
Frieda was lost before they had fairly started on their journey. If she
could not be found on the ship, what were they to do? Of course they
could send Marconigrams back to Jim Colter and Ralph Merrit, who had
come all the way from the ranch to New York City to say farewell to
them. But if Frieda should happen not to be with them or with any of
their other friends, must there not be days and days of horrible waiting
and anxiety before they could return home? Each moment the great steamer
was carrying them farther and farther away from the United States and
not all the gold in the Rainbow Mine could persuade her to alter her
course or to stop until they reached Gibraltar.
The voice spoke again. Evidently its owner must have pursued Ruth and
the three girls.
"I am afraid you are in some difficulty. If my maid or courier can be of
any service to you I shall be most happy. Evidently you have not crossed
before."
This final suggestion, even in the midst of her anxiety, made Jean
flush uncomfortably. Immediately she stopped and turned around,
recognizing the young woman who had previously both attracted and
annoyed her. Something in Jean's expression must have betrayed her
irritation, for the stranger smiled again.
"I hope I haven't offended you," she apologized. "I only wished to be
useful. You _are_ in trouble, so you must let me try to serve you."
In their overwhelming anxiety Ruth, Olive and Jack had continued on the
way to their staterooms, leaving Jean to answer for all of them. Now, to
her chagrin, the tears began overflowing her eyes like a frightened
baby's.
And only a few moments before had she not secretly hoped to make a
favorable impression upon this most interesting of their fellow
voyagers?
Jean had believed that she was looking unusually well herself. For her
blue silk dress with its touches of red embroidery, her blue chinchilla
coat with its scarlet lining and her hat with the single red wing in it
had been considered the most effective of the Ranch party's going-away
costumes.
[Illustration: HER TONE WAS THAT OF ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY]
So why should she be making herself so ridiculous before a total
stranger?
Jean did not realize that the emotion of parting with her friends and of
leaving her own country had been greater than she cared to admit even to
herself. Then this sudden overwhelming worry about Frieda had left her
nerves completely unstrung.
Therefore she was extremely grateful when the older woman led her to a
more secluded part of the promenade deck. New York was now out of sight,
and most of the passengers were hurrying off to their rooms. Jean and
her companion were almost entirely alone.
"We--we have lost our little sister," the young girl began incoherently.
"Or at least we have been unable to find her and do not feel altogether
sure that she came aboard with the rest of us. Oh, I realize that this
must sound absurd and impossible to you. It does to all of us. But what
can have become of her?"
With a slight but imperious nod of her head, which, even in her
excitement, Jean did not fail to observe, her new acquaintance summoned
her courier. And although she spoke to him in Italian the girl was able
to understand. The man was told to await their return. Then if
ordered he was to see that the ship was thoroughly searched for a
missing passenger without unnecessary notoriety.
A little later the young woman moved away with Jean. "Your sister is
probably in her own stateroom by this time. However, if she is not and
is on the ship we shall find her in a few moments." Her tone was that of
absolute authority, as though the great vessel were her private yacht.
Jean wondered how any woman not more than twenty-eight could give such
an impression of poise and experience.
Notwithstanding Frieda had not yet been discovered in any one of the
staterooms. She had been expected to occupy a room with Jean. Olive and
Jack were to be together and Ruth to sleep alone. However, in Ruth's
stateroom, which the girls had chosen as being specially attractive,
Jean and her new friend found Jacqueline Ralston waiting alone.
"I have promised to remain here while Miss Drew and Olive have gone to
speak to the proper authorities," Jack explained, with the curious
self-control which she was almost always able to summon under special
strain. "We hope my sister has simply mistaken her stateroom and may
come to us at any moment. But if you will be so kind as to have your man
assist us in our search, why we shall be deeply grateful. You see, we
are rather too frightened to be sensible, besides being inexperienced
travelers. And Frieda is so much the younger!" Here, with a break in her
self-command, Jack dropped unexpectedly into the nearest chair. She had
forgotten even to ask their visitor to be seated, nor did she have the
faintest idea of her name, nor the reason for her interest in their
predicament.
An hour later and the Martha Washington had been thoroughly and quietly
searched for the missing Frieda Ralston. Yet there appeared to be
absolutely no trace of her. Of course her baggage had been brought
aboard the ship with the other girls'. Even her silver toilet bag, Jim's
parting gift, was safely stored in her stateroom. Frieda had been last
seen ashore with nothing in her hands except a small gold link purse.
Finally when the news reached the Ranch party that Frieda was positively
not to be found on the steamer, for the first time in her career Ruth
Drew collapsed.
Not that she was more wretched than the girls over Frieda's
disappearance, but because of her greater sense of responsibility. For
almost a year, ever since their return from boarding school to the
Rainbow Ranch, Ruth had been separated from the Ranch girls and living
quietly in her old home in Vermont. In that time she had never heard
from Jim Colter nor of him, except what the girls had written in their
letters. Their meeting in New York had been entirely formal and without
a word of private conversation. Yet now it was the thought of Jim's
sorrow and indignation, should anything have happened to his baby,
Frieda, that Ruth found the hardest thing she had to bear. For had she
not once acted as Jim Colter's upright judge? What now must be his
judgment of her?
Several hours of this interminable afternoon were spent by Jack and
Olive waiting in the ship's office for answers to their Marconigrams.
But, when the answers finally did arrive, the news was only
discouraging: "Frieda had not been seen by either Jim or Ralph or by any
one of their acquaintances since the sailing of the Martha Washington."
Yet, notwithstanding the many hours of searching and distress, Jean's
new friend had never deserted them. She had not even gone to her own
room to remove her coat and hat. Indeed, her whole time had been spent
in encouraging Ruth, in making suggestions to the three girls, and in
having her maid and man do whatever was necessary toward assisting them.
Still no one of the Ranch party even knew her name.
Twilight had come and the lights were shining brilliantly everywhere
over the big ship. A fog horn had sounded and suddenly Jean felt that
she could bear the suspense no longer. She must break down, yet no one
of the others must see or hear her. Slipping out into a dark passageway,
she hid herself and cried for half an hour. Then making up her mind that
since nothing more could be done toward finding Frieda, she might at
least devote herself to comforting Ruth, she walked quietly back into
Ruth's stateroom. There she found their new friend just in the act of
leaving.
"You will be better by yourselves for a little while," she was saying,
holding Jack's hand in one of her own and Olive's in the other, while
looking sympathetically at Ruth. "My man will see that dinner is served
in your room, and by and by I will come again to say good-night. You
must not lose courage. The American girl never loses courage or ceases
to fight while there is still work to be done."
Having for the moment forgotten herself and her own sorrow, Jean became
more aware of their new acquaintance's unusual sympathy and kindness.
"You have been wonderfully good to us," she began chokingly, "and
perhaps at some time we may be able to show you our great appreciation.
But tonight, tonight--" and Jean could get no further. Then, summoning
more strength of character, she continued, "I wonder if you would mind
telling us your name? You must already know most of our history, as we
have talked so much of ourselves in speaking of Frieda."
For a moment Jean's friend appeared to be hesitating. Perhaps she did
not wish to talk of herself, for she was now looking as weary as Ruth
and the Ranch girls.
"You must not think I am not a fellow countrywoman when I tell you my
name," she replied slowly, and with the slightly foreign accent which
the girls had neglected to notice in their distress. "I was once a
western girl myself, oh, many years ago, in a little mining town. So I
was able to recognize you as soon as I saw and heard you talking. Now I
am an Italian, however, or at least my husband is. My name is Beatrice,
the Princess Beatrice Colonna."
Jean actually gasped out loud. Here she had been talking to a real live
Princess without knowing it, when in her most romantic moments she had
only conceived of a literary one.
If they had not been in such great trouble over Frieda, how thrilling
this meeting would have seemed! Yet, except for their sorrow, they might
never have spoken to the Princess. And now here she was standing right
in their midst talking just like any one else!
A moment later and she had vanished with these parting words:
"Promise me not to be too unhappy while I am gone. And perhaps when I
return we may have devised some better scheme for finding your little
Frieda."