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 ago little 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 cafe in the center of the gardens. And although delectable sweets
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 her hand toward the three men back
of her so that they approached. "_I_ have not a short memory, but
_you_," 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 Americans are 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 with the 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 she _could_ do 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 and pure, 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 this Captain 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.