A CURIOUS RESEMBLANCE
"I'll be--I beg your pardon," Donald Harmon apologized hurriedly.
"Sister, I didn't know your visitors had come." He held out his hand to
Jack, who was nearest him. "I ought to have known who you were when I
met you an hour ago, but I was a little confused over something," he
said.
Elizabeth Harmon introduced her brother to the girls, whose names she
had now learned. When Donald spoke to Olive he tried in vain to hide his
puzzled expression, and again she dropped her gaze before his as though
she did not wish him to see her face. Olive was always shy, but to-day
she seemed more so than usual, and she had a peculiar fashion, like some
flowers, of folding herself about with little leaves and tendrils of
reserve to hide her real self from the outside world.
Donald Harmon sat down next Jack and immediately across from Olive, but
Jack made no effort to open a conversation with him, for she did not
like him and did object to the odd way in which he gazed at Olive.
"What is your friend's name?" Donald inquired immediately.
"Olive," Jack returned in a non-committal fashion.
"But Olive what? I have a special reason for wishing to know," the young
fellow protested impatiently. Olive and Jean were talking with Elizabeth
and were not observing Jack and her companion.
For the fleeting part of a moment Jack hesitated, "Olive--why, Olive
Ralston," she replied quietly. "I thought you knew our name was
Ralston."
"I did," Donald answered. "Please don't think I am mad, but I thought
for a second she might have another name. Have you ever heard the theory
that we all have a double somewhere in the world? I want you to look
closely at my mother when she comes in. Your sister is enough like her
to be her own child, though of course there is a difference in their
coloring and expressions and perhaps other details that I have not
noticed, but when I saw your sister on the street to-day I was overcome
by their likeness." At this moment Donald Harmon, hearing his mother's
voice in the hall, quickly turned on the electric lights.
Jacqueline Ralston caught her breath before the strange vista of
possibilities that Donald Harmon's suggestion opened to her imagination.
Never had she ceased to wonder at the mystery of Olive's birth. "Has
your mother ever been out west before?" Jack asked hastily. And Donald
only had time to answer, "Never in her life," when Mrs. Harmon entered
the sitting room.
Jack's first emotion was one of intense and selfish relief. Mrs. Harmon
and Olive did not look in the least alike--the son's idea had been
absurd. Mrs. Harmon's eyes were blue and Olive's black, her complexion
was fair and Olive's dark. It was true Mrs. Harmon did have black hair,
though it was now slightly tinged with gray, and it grew in a point like
Olive's in the center of her low, broad forehead, but there was nothing
remarkable in this little point of resemblance. Jack thought Mrs. Harmon
beautiful and the first real society woman she had ever seen. Her manner
was gracious and friendly, yet Jack knew instinctively that few people
were ever allowed to fathom her real feelings.
"Surely you see the likeness," Donald whispered boyishly. "It isn't that
their features are so alike, it is something I can hardly explain to you
if you don't see it yourself. I have always thought my mother the most
beautiful person in the world, but your sister is nearly as pretty."
Jack frowned, for she did not care to have Donald Harmon discuss Olive
in this outspoken fashion.
Mrs. Harmon was sitting between Jean and Olive, listening to Jean's
apology for the broken teacups. Like most older people, she was
attracted by her piquant manner and appearance. So far she had paid no
particular attention to Olive, hereby including her with the other in a
general greeting.
Donald strode over to his sister's chair and murmured something under
his breath. Elizabeth flushed, stared across the room and shook her head
pettishly. It was one of the trials of her life that, though she bore no
resemblance to her beautiful mother, her brother was supposed to look
like her.
Olive and Mrs. Harmon had their heads close together. "I say, mother,"
Don broke out impetuously, "for the life of me I can't see why no one
else speaks of it. Miss Olive Ralston looks ten times more like you
than either Elizabeth or I do."
Mrs. Harmon turned to face Olive. "I wish I thought so, Don," she
answered girlishly: "Miss Ralston is so pretty." She took one of Olive's
hands, but Olive was so embarrassed at being the center of all eyes that
she blushed furiously and gazed steadfastly down at her lap.
"I am sorry not to agree with you, Don, dear," Mrs. Harmon answered a
moment later. "This Miss Ralston looks like a foreign girl, an Italian
or Spaniard, and I am a thorough New Yorker. Were your father and mother
western people?" she asked Olive.
Olive's face paled and her lips quivered. Would she have courage to
announce before these strangers that she had no idea who her mother and
father were nor from whence they had come? Before she could find her
voice Jack rushed blindly to the rescue. "Olive is our adopted sister,
Mrs. Harmon," she explained briefly; "but we do not like people to know
it, so we rarely speak of her past. You must forgive her if she does not
answer you."
With perfect good taste Mrs. Harmon immediately changed the conversation
to another subject, but Jack, who was watching her closely, saw that
every now and then she gazed intently at Olive. If any odd fancy crossed
her mind or any half-forgotten memory, she gave no sign of it. Once she
leaned back wearily after Elizabeth had contradicted her, and Jack had
an uncomfortable moment. Perhaps Mrs. Harmon did suggest Olive when her
eyes were down and her face was in repose, but she banished the idea as
a ridiculous one. Donald, however, clung obstinately to his first
impression and devoted the rest of his time to trying to make Olive
talk.
Quite naturally the group of people had separated themselves into pairs.
Jack, who was so strong and independent, who showed vigor and joy of
living in every movement of her body, was deeply touched by Elizabeth
Harmon's weakness. She recognized that the girl was spoiled and that she
might be subject to impossible moods, but she was so sorry for her that
she didn't care about her faults. Indeed, she said to herself that if
ever she had the same misfortune to endure she would be far more
difficult than Elizabeth.
"I wish my father would come," Elizabeth said to Jack for the third time
in the last ten minutes. "You see, he and I are chums, and mother and
Don rather hit it off better together. Mother is awfully good to me and
lets me do whatever I please, but she has never been able to forgive my
not being good-looking like Don."
Before Jack could show Elizabeth how her speech had shocked her, Mr.
Harmon's entrance brought a new atmosphere into the room. He was a
typical Wall Street broker, well dressed, with a heavy-set figure,
reddish hair that was turning white, and a curt, businesslike manner. He
spoke politely to his wife and her guests, but it was plain to
everybody present that he thought only of his daughter. Jack believed
she would have disliked him except for his devotion to Elizabeth. He
never seemed unconscious of her for a moment and his expression softened
each time he spoke to her. Otherwise he appeared as a shrewd, hard man
who would get the best of a bargain whenever he had the chance. Standing
at the back of his daughter's chair, he at once asked Jack a dozen
questions about Rainbow Lodge--what vegetables were raised in their
garden, whether they were included in the rent of the Lodge, what the
water supply was for the house. It was evident that he meant to get as
much as possible for his money, and Jack wondered if the richest people
were not often those who tried to drive the hardest bargains.
Only once did Mr. Harmon's manner change. This was when Elizabeth put
her hand on his sleeve and begged him to ask Jack if there was a pony on
the ranch that she could have to drive.
"I'm not a rich man--far from it," Mr. Harmon remarked quickly; "but if
you will let my daughter have one of your horses for the summer, I will
pay you anything in reason. There is nothing in the world I care for so
deeply as her health and happiness."
Jack shook her head. From her position near the sick girl she could see
how Elizabeth's eyes glistened at the prospect of being allowed to drive
herself. "I'm so sorry," Jack answered. "If any one of us had a pony
that would be of any pleasure to Elizabeth, of course we would lend it
to her with pleasure, but you see we only ride horseback at the ranch
and have never owned any kind of cart. The ponies are not broken for
driving."
As soon as her speech was over Jack realized that Elizabeth Harmon
resented her mention of their horseback riding, because it was a
pleasure impossible for her, and that Mr. Harmon was in such close
sympathy with his daughter that he also was displeased. But Jack, in
spite of her hot temper, was not offended. "I tell you what we might do,
Miss Harmon: suppose you get your father to send a governess' cart, or
whatever you wish to use, to the Rainbow Ranch right away. Then when we
go back I will make one of our cowboys begin to accustom one of our
ponies to driving. Your brother can see that it is all right, and
perhaps we may possibly have a chance to go over the ranch together. I
would like to show you the places we love best, before we start on our
trip. I am sure ranch life and the bracing western air will do your
daughter a great deal of good, Mr. Harmon," Jack said, rising to give
Jean and Olive the signal for saying farewell.
"I wish you weren't going away, Miss Ralston--Jack," Elizabeth Harmon
burst out impulsively. "If you would stay at home with me I would be
sure to get well."
Jack laughed. "You are awfully good, but if we stayed at home there
would be no room for you. But I feel ever so much happier about renting
our home since I have met you. I love the ranch so dearly I am afraid
that anyone who sees it will begin to care for it as I do and try to
get possession of it as soon as we are out of sight."
Mr. Harmon shook hands with Jack with more cordiality than he showed to
most people. "Don't worry about your cattle ranch, Miss Ralston," he
protested. "I am about as much interested in raising cattle as I am in
the North Pole, but if you find any odd gold mines on your way to the
Yellowstone, I'm the man for you. I make a specialty of gold mining
stock on Wall Street."
Having safely arrived once more at Mrs. Peterson's boarding house, the
three ranch girls retired to their bedrooms as soon as dinner was over.
After several hours of animated discussion, the decision was reached
that on the whole the Harmons had not made an agreeable impression. Jack
liked Elizabeth, and Jean and Olive thought Mrs. Harmon very attractive
and the son fairly so. But their new acquaintances did not strike the
girls as a happy or united family. Certainly there were grave
differences of opinion between them and they seemed to be divided among
themselves.
Among them, Jack, Olive and Jean managed to eat three pounds of candy
before they went to sleep. Jack wondered next morning if it were the
candy or the experiences of the day that made her sleep such a queer
jumble of dreams. She dreamed that the Harmons were trying to get Olive
away from her and that she was holding to her skirts with all her might.
Then Frank Kent appeared, but instead of helping her save Olive he
seemed to be on the Harmons' side. Jack felt herself slipping down, down
into a great, dark abyss. She awakened finally to find the tears running
down her cheeks, Jean punching her in the ribs to bring her back to her
senses and Olive imploring her to tell them what was the trouble.
"Come out of that nightmare, for heaven's sake, Jack Ralston," Jean
insisted. "You were weeping as though some terrible thing had happened.
As I was dreaming sweetly of our caravan trip I thought you were some
wild animal wailing, away off in the wilderness."