LEAVING ROME
"I AM sorry, Jean, that you think no one could care for me for myself,
and that it is my money that is my sole attraction. If that is true I
could wish for my own part that the Rainbow mine had never been
discovered."
The two cousins, Jack and Jean, were alone in their sitting room in
their hotel in Rome. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, six
days after the Princess' ball, and although it was raining and a cold,
disagreeable afternoon, Ruth, Olive and Frieda had gone forth on another
sight-seeing pilgrimage.
Jack had been writing letters, but had ceased and gone over to stand by
the window when Jean began her conversation. There was just a chance
that it might be wiser for her cousin not to be able to see her face,
for she was quicker to arrive at conclusions than any other one of them.
But Jean had said more than Jack supposed she would have dared. Now she
turned from pretending to view the dismal picture of chilly orange trees
and chillier marble statuary and her gray eyes met Jean's brown ones
coldly.
Jean sighed. Somehow she and Jack had so often managed to misunderstand
each other, ever since they were little girls. And now, when she
particularly wanted to keep her cousin from growing angry and to talk
things over candidly, why, as usual, she had begun matters by putting
her foot in it. Jack had such an uncomfortable fashion of growing white
and quiet when she was furious, instead of crimson and teary like Jean
and Frieda. Why on earth had Ruth ever appointed her to tell Jack Frank
Kent's account of his cousin and to find out whether she cared for him.
It was certainly Ruth's place to have done it herself. Why in the world
hadn't she had the sense to decline.
"But I never said anything in the least like that, Jack, and it is not
fair of you to suggest it," Jean replied, doing her best to answer as
gently as possible. "It was only that I told you we had good reason to
believe that Captain Madden is a fortune-hunter. I don't know, of
course, whether you care in the least who or what he is, but he is
desperately poor, has had to resign from the British army because he
didn't or couldn't pay his debts, and, and--do you care to hear anything
else?"
Jack's eyes flashed curiously. Jean remembered how ever since she was a
little girl her cousin's eyes had had this fashion of turning dark when
any one opposed her will. And they had all thought Jack so entirely
changed by her illness, so much softened, so much readier to give up her
own way to other people's. At this instant Jean wondered if any one ever
really changed in the leading traits of character?
"I don't care to learn anything more just now to Captain Madden's
discredit," Jack was saying quietly and reasonably enough, "but I would
like very much to know how you and Ruth, and Olive and Frieda for that
matter, have heard so much in such a short time? Is it Frank Kent who
has told you? Because if he has, I should like to tell you that Captain
Madden had warned me Frank was apt to say disagreeable things about him.
As for his being poor and having had to leave the army because of it,
why of course I knew that. And I don't believe I care to hear anything
more on the subject that you may wish to say."
"But you _must_, Jack," Jean ordered unwisely. "Unless you can
positively swear to me that Captain Madden means nothing in the world to
you and that you do not intend having any further friendship with him.
Ruth told me if I could make you promise this, we need not speak of the
matter again."
Jack bit her lips. However angry Jean's interference might be making
her, this was no time to be losing her temper like a silly child.
"I can make you no such promise, Jean, and I don't think Ruth should
have allowed you to ask it of me. But there is one thing I should like
very much to have you tell me. How did Frank Kent happen to come to Rome
at this especial time? Before we left America I asked him to wait until
we reached England before joining us, and all of you knew of my letter
and made no objections. I thought it would be better for us to have the
first of our journey to ourselves while we were learning to be more
experienced travelers. Frank said he understood and agreed, and yet here
he turns up in Rome without writing me and straightway begins
interfering in my affairs. I used to like Frank very much in the old
days at the ranch, but no amount of friendship can make me forgive--"
"You need not be so unfair to Frank, Jack," Jean interrupted, losing
control of herself at this evidence of Jack's liking for the middle-aged
man whom she had always detested, and whom the other members of her
family were now learning to dislike almost as much. "I wrote Frank Kent
while I was staying with the Princess Colonna, begging him to join us
here in Rome at once. Ruth had said she was afraid you were growing too
much interested in Captain Madden and that we ought to be finding out
more about him. I knew Frank would know, and I thought you would believe
what _he_ said. Frank is here now, waiting downstairs to talk to you.
Perhaps he will have more influence than I can." And without daring to
find out whether or not her cousin would consent, Jean darted quickly
from the room. Something or other Jack called after her. Nevertheless
Jean preferred neither to hear nor heed and a few minutes after
reappeared with Frank Kent.
During her brief absence Jacqueline was trying desperately hard to make
up her mind what she had best do. To run away, declining to see Frank,
would look as though she feared what he might have to tell her. To
stay--Jack wondered how far in her present mood she might trust herself?
Certainly, on his entrance, Frank appeared as supremely uncomfortable as
a young man could, which should have softened Jack's heart or her
temper.
However, his first words were as unfortunate as Jean's had been.
"I never could have dreamed it would be necessary for me to tell you all
this, Jack," he began. "I never have thought of you except as a
child--well, not a child exactly, but a jolly, sensible kind of a girl.
And now, oh, it is too absurd to find you thinking you have a liking for
a man like Bob Madden! He is more or less of a rascal, you know," Frank
blurted with the dreadful English directness which the Ranch girls had
used to like in him.
Jack had been listening so quietly that he had no idea of what mood she
was in. The next instant, however, it was easy enough for him to guess.
Jack was sitting quite still in a tall carved chair with her head bent
a little forward and both hands clasped so tightly together in her lap
that the knuckles showed white. The lines of the girl's face were always
clearly cut, but today they seemed more so. Even Jean noticed how deeply
gray her cousin's eyes looked and how crimson her lips. The bronze of
her hair was of an even richer tone than usual. Inwardly Jean sighed
again. If only Jack could realize how splendidly handsome she was and
how worth while, would she waste any more of her time and their's on
such an undesirable friendship?
But Jack was speaking. "No, I am not a child, Frank," she declared,
"though I am sorry you think I am no longer a jolly or sensible girl.
You see, I am nearly twenty and I don't believe you are more than three
years older. Ever since you and Jean began talking to me this afternoon
I have been wondering why you had agreed that I cared for Captain
Madden. I have never said a word of his liking for me or of mine for
him. And I am sure he has never spoken to Ruth or anybody else."
"That is just the horridest part of it," Jean murmured irritably. But
her cousin went on without heeding her. "The truth is I have been
trying this whole week to find out whether or not I cared enough for
Captain Madden to promise to be his wife. I was intending to write to
him and beg him to wait a little longer, when Jean came in to talk to
me. Now you have both helped me make up my mind. I shall not ask him to
wait. I shall tell him that I do care and that I do not believe the
things I hear against him. Oh, he warned me long ago, Frank, of the
trouble he had had with your family, of how your father had inherited
all the money so that no one else had any--"
But the rest of Jack's declaration was discontinued because of Jean's
bursting suddenly into tears and rushing out of the room.
Frank picked up his hat uncertainly. "I suppose it is not worth while
for me to tell you anything further, Jack, if you have determined not to
believe me," he declared. "Nevertheless I feel it my duty to warn you
that I shall talk freely to your chaperon, Miss Drew, and that I shall
also write Jim Colter. Oh, say, Jack, I can't bear it, you know, for you
to go and throw yourself away like this!" Frank had started his reproof
like Jack's grandfather, but the ending was a good deal more like the
boy friend for whom she had once had such an affection.
Then for a moment Jack's lips trembled and she wanted to say something
kinder, except for her fear of following Jean's example and beginning to
cry.
At this moment, however, Ruth Drew, still wearing her hat and coat, came
hurrying into the room. She had just seen Jean and knew what had passed
between Frank and the two girls.
Ruth put her arms around Jack. "It is my fault, dear, and I shall never
forgive myself. I have been blind and a coward straight through. You are
too young to know anything of the world and have been left too much to
your own judgment. I ought to have stopped this acquaintance at once and
I ought to have talked to you myself this afternoon instead of having
Jean do it. I was just hoping against hope that we had all been mistaken
and that you would laugh at our idea. But, oh Jack, you won't write the
letter you have just said. You _must not_, dear; I forbid it. You are
not yet of age and I am here in Europe as your chaperon, temporarily as
your guardian. What will Mr. Colter think and say?"
Quietly Jack drew herself away from Ruth's agitated embrace. Frank had
already gone out of the room.
"Please don't talk to me as if I were a silly child, too, Ruth, please,"
Jack pleaded. "I am sorry to be disobedient; but you can't forbid my
writing to the man who has asked me to be his wife. After all, it is
_my_ life and _my_ love Captain Madden has asked for. But I don't want
you and Jean and Olive and Frieda to be angry with me and not love me
any more. I must write Captain Madden, of course, but after that I will
wait until you hear from Jim." Jack's self-control was giving way now
and she covered her face with her hands.
"Of course you will tell Jim what you think and what Frank says, and
poor Jim will be nearly crazy. Because he is sure to believe you as long
as he has always been in love with you. But Jim has more charity and
sympathy and will want me to be happy and--" Jack could not go on.
Ruth was by this time shedding tears herself, so that the atmosphere of
the room with the rain pouring down outside was distinctly dismal.
"Don't we want you to be happy too, Jack? You must believe that; but I
suppose you consider we are unjustly prejudiced. Still, dear, won't you
promise me at least not to see Captain Madden again until we have heard
from Jim?" Ruth implored.
There was no immediate answer, and for this much the older woman was
distinctly thankful. If Jacqueline Ralston would only once give her word
there would be no going back upon it.
"Yes, Ruth, I promise," she replied after a little while.
The next moment Ruth had led her to a chair and after Jack had seated
herself, she rested on the arm for a moment, pressing her cheek against
the girl's golden-brown hair. For although Ruth was a good many years
the older, Jack was now several inches taller than her chaperon.
"Are you so sure Captain Madden does mean your happiness?" Ruth
whispered, and then held her breath, so fearful did she feel of the
answer.
For the second time Jack hesitated. "Yes, I _think_ so; that is, Captain
Madden says he will spend his life trying to make me happy. But, oh
Ruthie, please don't let's talk about anything more that is serious
just now. It seems to me that everybody has been scolding me all
afternoon and I'm tired." This was spoken so like a fretful child that
actually Ruth was able to summon a smile.
Before her reply, however, Frieda came strolling in, carrying a box of
chocolate drops and thoughtfully biting one in two.
She extended her refreshments to her sister and chaperon. "Dick Grant
has just brought me these; they are American, and I _am_ grateful to
him," she remarked pensively. "That foolish Mrs. Grant told me that the
candy business was such a be-au-ti-ful business and I laughed at her.
Now I am beginning to think so too. I am so homesick for most anything
that is American. Isn't Rome dismal today? Ruth took Olive and me to
another old picture gallery and just as we were trying to take an
interest in things, suddenly she decided that we had to rush back to the
hotel. Don't you think we have had enough of Rome? Jean says she is
tired and I am, and Ruth and Olive say they are a little bit. Besides,
if we are to see enough of Europe to count, this summer, ought we not to
be starting out again?"
Ruth had risen and walked toward the window. She was not sure of how
much Frieda knew of what was troubling all of them this afternoon.
However, she devoutly hoped that there might be no further reference to
it until the atmosphere was more peaceful.
Frieda placed herself on a stool facing her sister.
"Jack, let's go away from Rome in a few days?" she demanded. "I am sure
the rest of us would like to if you are willing."
Jack shook her head. "No, no, Frieda, not for another week or two," she
protested. "I am sure there are still lots of things that we ought to
see."
"There would be if we stayed here until we died," the younger girl
grumbled. "Look here, Jack, you know you like to preach to me sometimes,
though you are mostly pretty good about it, now I would like you to
remember our compact. Didn't we promise that if three of us decided that
we wanted to go to a certain place or do a certain thing the other two
had to follow suit. So if Ruth and Jean and Olive and I are weary of
Rome and want to go away, don't you think it your duty to do what we
like? Just think it over, dear!" And Frieda popped a chocolate drop
into her sister's mouth and then one into her own with instant
promptness.
Jack got up and moved toward the door. Somehow, in the face of the
question she was now having to solve, Frieda's reference to their
compact seemed childish and absurd. Could she actually have felt young
enough not a month ago to have entered into such an agreement with all
seriousness? And yet to give one's word was final.
"All right, Frieda baby," Jack assented, as she was about to cross the
threshold, "if the others really do want to leave Rome now, it would not
be fair to keep you here on my account. Wherever you go I will come
along."
When Jack had finally disappeared and was safely out of hearing, Ruth
turned from pretending to stare out the window and gave Frieda an
ecstatic hug. "That is the best thing that has happened to us this day,
baby!" she exclaimed, not pretending to explain her remark.
Frieda received the mark of affection placidly; she was perfectly
accustomed to being embraced by her family at unexpected moments.
"Yes, I thought it would be best to get Jack away from the chance of
seeing him, though I did not want her to guess that was our reason," she
remarked sagely. "Of course Captain Madden is Jack's first truly beau
and she takes love and things like that so seriously. She and Olive are
not like Jean and me. She'll get over it, though, I am pretty sure, if
we can only get her into the country where she can hunt and fish and do
the things she used to do. The sky is too blue and there are too many
flowers in Italy."
Then Frieda went on pensively devouring dozens of chocolates, while Ruth
retired into her own room to lie down. She was half amused and half
aghast at Frieda's sudden burst of worldly wisdom. Indeed, she was not
at all sure whether she wished to shake the youngest of the Ranch girls
or whether she desired to embrace her again.