FRIEDA'S RIFT
"DID Frieda say on what ship she would sail? It is odd she does not
cable."
The two friends were coming down from the third floor of Kent House
where the babies' nurseries were. Jack and Frank had two children--the
oldest a small boy, something over three years old, and called Jimmie,
in honor of Jim Colter, the Ranch Girls' guardian and the one-time
overseer and now part owner of the Rainbow Ranch. The baby, who was only
a year old, had been named for Olive Van Mater, who had never seen her
until her present visit. But there would be no confusion of names, for
almost immediately the small brother had rechristened his tiny sister
with the charming little name "Vive," which was used for her always. And
since Vive was the gayest and liveliest of babies, this name with its
translated meaning, "Life" was supposed to be particularly appropriate.
"No, Frieda did not say," Olive Van Mater returned. "But I presume she
will cable in a day or so. Frieda will expect you to be in London to
meet her. I am sure she will feel much aggrieved if you do not, but I
think I won't come along, Jack, if I may stay with the babies."
Lady Kent opened the door of a room.
"Just as you like, Olive, only I hope Frieda will let me know in time.
Frank is in London most of the week while Parliament is in session, and
I'll have to ask him to make arrangements for us. The season is over, of
course, but the hotels are filled with tourists. It has been a wonderful
English summer. I don't think there were ever more travelers. Well,
Frieda's rooms are at least ready for her. I hope she may enjoy having
the same ones she had when she came over to visit the first year after
Frank and I were married. I wonder if she ever thinks these days of how
hard I tried to persuade her to believe she was too much of a baby to
think of marrying so soon? We should never have allowed her to marry the
first person who ever seriously asked her. Oh, I know Frieda thought she
had already had a great deal of experience with her college boy
admirers, particularly the one we used to call 'The Chocolate Drop
Boy.'"
In the meantime the two women had entered the apartment which was being
reserved for the expected visitor. The two rooms--a sitting room and a
bed room--were furnished in heavy, old fashioned English furniture
upholstered in delicately faded blue damask. The walls were also of the
same blue, while the panelings of the rooms were of English oak.
Olive walked at once to a window in Frieda's sitting room.
"I don't see how she can well help liking these rooms, besides this
window offers one of the most perfect views in the entire house."
Olive could see across the slope of the park down to a stream, which
twisted its way along the base of the hill. Beyond were the tall towers
of Granchester church and not far away the roofs of the houses which
made up the village.
Then, to the left, one could acquire a charming view of the beginning of
the Kent gardens--the low, carefully trimmed borders and the masses of
blooms, with a sun dial at the end of the center path.
"Let us go into the garden for awhile, Jack," Olive suggested. "I think
I enjoy it more in the morning than at any other time. Besides, I have
been intending to ask if you suppose Frieda and her husband have
informed each other that they are both sailing for England? It will be
odd to have them meet each other here unless they do know."
Jack shook her head. "I haven't any ideas on the subject, but Frank will
have to see that Professor Russell stays in London until we find out
from Frieda. Sorry, but I can't go outdoors with you till this
afternoon. I've hundreds of things to do and have promised Frank to
write some letters which I have been putting off."
In return Olive said nothing, although, as she was walking about
outdoors alone, she rather marveled at the change in her friend's life.
As a girl Jacqueline Ralston's life had been entirely unordered; she had
done each day, after the sun rose over her beloved prairies, whatever
the day called her to do. Now, each of Jack's days seemed to follow an
established routine. In the morning immediately after breakfast she saw
her housekeeper; then she spent two hours with her babies, afterwards
answering an immense amount of correspondence--and Jack had always hated
letter writing more than any other task. In the afternoon she was
supposed to be free for a few hours, and then there were guests to tea,
or else Lady Kent was supposed to drive or motor over to make calls on
her country neighbors.
Of course such an existence with money and a high position might be
regarded as ideal by most women. But Olive was puzzled, because that
kind of a life did not appear suited to the girl she remembered.
However, as Jack seemed happy, Olive concluded that she must have
changed, as most girls do after marriage.
This afternoon a number of friends had been asked to tea at Kent House
in order to meet Olive. When they went down into the garden together,
where tea was to be served, Olive felt that her decision of the morning
had really been nearer the truth than she had then appreciated. Jack
looked like one of the fairest types of society women. She was dressed
in white--an exquisite embroidered material--and had on a big soft white
garden hat, trimmed with deep toned pink roses. The soft, damp English
air had kept her color as vivid as ever and given her yellow brown hair
an even finer gloss.
On their way to the tea table in the garden, Jack stopped to pick for
her companion a bouquet of lavender primroses and anemones and stars of
the mist--flowers ranging from violet to pure white--for Olive was
wearing a pale grey chiffon, which blended perfectly with her pronounced
oriental coloring.
To the right of the garden, and a few yards from the flower beds, was a
clump of trees. Because this July was warmer than is usual in England,
Lady Kent had arranged to have tea here. There were small tables and
chairs scattered about over the lawn, which was green as only an English
lawn can be, but the tea table itself stood under the trees.
Jack and Olive had hoped to have a talk before their guests arrived. But
they had not been outdoors more than a few moments before their guests
appeared, the Rector and his wife, a Mr. and Mrs. Illington, and their
two daughters,--charming, tall, blonde English girls. Afterwards, it
seemed to Olive that Jack was constantly introducing her to people
arriving every few minutes during the next hour, in spite of the fact
that she had also to preside over the serving of the tea.
As Olive had never entirely recovered from her girlhood shyness, she was
delighted to see how perfectly at ease Jack was. She appeared to be able
to discuss church matters with the Rector, and the latest bill up in
Parliament with an old gentleman who was the Earl of Granchester and as
a Conservative was much opposed to the Liberal party of which Frank Kent
was a representative.
Half an hour later, Olive wandered off with several of the guests to
watch a game of tennis which was being started by the two Illington
girls and two of their male friends who had come over to play.
When Olive returned, she discovered that most of the other guests had
either scattered or gone home. In any case Jack was alone, except for a
young army officer, who must have just arrived, since Olive did not
recall having previously seen him. He was a splendid looking fellow,
about twenty-five, with dark hair and eyes, and a skin which must have
been tanned by other than the English sun.
As Olive approached them she thought he made a particularly handsome
contrast to Jack's fairness. They were both laughing at the moment, but
almost immediately Jack jumped up from the chair where she had been
sitting and waved to Olive.
"Olive, dear, come meet the nicest kind of an Englishman--one who is
half Scotch and the other half Irish," she called out. "Olive Van
Mater, this is Captain Bryan MacDonnell--an old school friend of Frank's
and sometimes a friend of mine."
Captain MacDonnell bowed gravely, making no effort to return Jack's
challenge.
"Bryan is just back from shooting 'big game' somewhere--make him tell
you about it, Olive, while I get rid of the last of these tiresome
people." Jack made a grimace and shrugged her shoulders, her manner more
like her old self than Olive had noticed before.
For about fifteen minutes she and Captain MacDonnell must have talked
together, but Olive decided that Jack's description of him had been very
nearly true, whether she had meant it or not. Then, observing that
everybody else had gone and Jack was alone, they returned to her.
"I'm sorry you can't dine with us tonight, Bryan," Lady Kent remarked on
parting. "Olive and I are to be alone. Frank only visits his family now
and then, because he is so busy in town. No; I did not go up to London
this year for the season. I only went for a few days at a time, as I was
not willing to leave the babies. Besides, you know I don't care as much
for society as I should anyway."
Then Captain MacDonnell said something which Olive did not hear.
However, she did hear Jack's answer.
"Ride with you tomorrow? I should think I will just as hard and as fast
as possible and jump all the fences and ditches in this part of the
country. I'm awfully glad you are back, Bryan, to help me get rid of
some of my surplus American energy."
That same evening, after a late dinner, Jack and Olive went into the
library together. As is often the case in English homes of distinction,
the library at Kent House was the pleasantest room in the entire house.
The books were on low shelves encircling the four walls, except for the
opening left for a huge fireplace. Above the mantel was the head of a
stag. On one side hung a shield and on the other the Kent Coat of Arms
with the motto "Semper Paratus" meaning "always prepared."
Above the book shelves were portraits of Frank's ancestors, who had been
country people in Kent county for a number of years, although the title
was not an old one.
In the places of honor were Frank's grandfather and grandmother--one of
them a young man of about twenty in Court costume; the other a lovely
girl with fair hair and dark eyes and a particularly bright expression.
"Frank likes to think Vive, the baby, looks like his grandmother," Jack
declared as she stretched herself on a big leather lounge not far from a
pair of French windows, which opened on the veranda at the side of the
house.
"I hope you won't feel dull, Olive! As soon as Parliament closes, if you
and Frieda like, we will have some people come to stay with us. I don't
like the responsibility of visitors if Frank is not here. I have never
learned to take guests so simply and easily as an English hostess does.
It is one of the ways in which I am a social failure."
"Nonsense," Olive announced, without paying much attention to what Jack
had said. She had picked up a magazine and was reading.
An hour passed and Olive believed that Jack had almost fallen asleep.
Now and then she would close her eyes, although the greater part of the
time she seemed in a reverie.
As a matter of fact Jack was really thinking of the old ranch and the
people at home, whom Olive's coming had brought to mind more vividly
than usual.
"I'm glad Jean and Ralph are at the ranch this year with Ruth and Jim,"
she said finally. "What a pleasure it must be to Jean that Ralph is such
a successful engineer--one of the biggest in the United States, Jim
writes. But Jim always liked Ralph better than any of the husbands. He
never could altogether forgive Frank for being an Englishman."
"Oh Ralph has not been at the ranch much," Olive added, looking up from
her book. "He has been working out on the coast and at Panama, but I
think Jean is glad to have a rest because she has traveled with him so
much."
In the ensuing silence Jack must actually have dozed, and certainly
Olive found a more absorbing article in her magazine. But Jack must also
have dreamed, for she woke thinking she heard a voice calling her from
outdoors, "Jack! Jack!"
This was, of course, out of the question except in a dream. Kent House
was a mile from any place other than its own Lodge. Besides no one whom
she could possibly imagine would call out "Jack!" in such a fashion and
at such an hour of the night.
Nevertheless Olive looked surprised, so she too must have heard some
kind of a noise.
The second time the sound was heard, Jack started up.
"Please ring the bell for the servants, Olive. I am sure I hear a voice
calling me. It sounds absurd and yet I must find out who it is. Even if
the servants insist this house is haunted, no one has ever yet suggested
that the lawn is also haunted."
Then, in characteristic fashion, and without putting a wrap over her
white dress or waiting for any one to accompany her, Jack ran through
the library and out into the broad hall. There was no one near, so she
pulled open the heavy front door.
Leading up to Kent House was a winding avenue of trees. At some little
distance down the avenue, Lady Kent thought she could see a dark object
apparently standing still in the center of the road. Without pausing
even long enough for Olive to join her, she ran through the darkness
toward it.
"Jack! Jack! be careful!" she heard the voice call, and this time she
recognized whose voice it was.