FAREWELL
ABOUT a week later Captain MacDonnell arrived at the Rainbow Ranch
accompanied by a man servant who waited upon him. He looked better than
any of his friends had anticipated.
Since there was so much sorrow in the world at the present time, Jack
and Frank had made up their minds that they would not let their own
influence other people more than they could avoid. Moreover, they had
found each other again at just the right moment and were more devoted,
more united than ever before. Frank explained his own change of attitude
to his wife, but all the events of the past seemed small in comparison
with their loss.
It was Frieda who for a while seemed the more outwardly inconsolable.
Actually the Professor came one day in distress to Jack herself.
"My dear Jack, I don't know what I shall do with my little Frieda when
you have gone home to England!" he exclaimed. For it had been decided
that Jack and Jimmie were to return home when Frank did.
"But you will both be coming over soon," Jack answered, showing no sign
that it might be strange under the circumstances to expect her to
comfort Frieda.
The Professor did not see this. He really saw very little else in the
world except his wife and his work.
"We may not be able to come for several months. In the meantime if she
frets herself ill?"
Jack promised to talk to her sister.
One evening when Frieda complained of a headache and did not come down
to dinner, Jack went up to her.
She found her sister lying on a couch and looking very young and sweet.
"You are not to worry too much on my account, Frieda dear," Jack began.
"I am not supposed to be unselfish," Frieda murmured.
But Jack paid no attention to her speech. "Perhaps you'll have a baby
some day yourself, dear."
At this Frieda pulled her sister down and whispered something in her
ear. Jack's face flushed.
"I should be happier than anything! Remember you and Henry are to come
to us as soon as it can be arranged."
A few days later Lord and Lady Kent with their little boy left for the
East. They were to stop a few days in Washington and then sail.
Not long afterwards Frieda and the Professor also went away from the
ranch, as Professor Russell had a good many things to look after and
Frieda would not be separated from him.
As Ralph Merritt had arrived for a visit, Jean's attention was occupied
with him. So as a matter of fact Captain MacDonnell was rather left to
Olive's care.
At first it did not seem a large duty simply to try and keep Captain
MacDonnell amused and she had wanted to do something. But Olive had not
reckoned with her task.
Captain MacDonnell was an Irishman and a Scotchman, which means he was
able to be very gay and also very melancholy. And always in times past,
when his melancholy mood had taken hold on him, he could mount his horse
and ride the spectre away, or else engage in some other active outdoor
occupation.
But here he was still so young a man, with all his future before him,
and compelled to sit all day in a wheeled chair, or else hobble about on
crutches.
It has not been the illness that has been hardest for the soldiers to
bear, but oftentimes this coming back to accept with resignation a new
kind of life.
Yet Captain MacDonnell tried to be patient, tried to let no one guess
what he was suffering at thus having his career ended so soon, and being
also unable to go on with the service to his country which he so longed
to give.
But Olive, who had always more of a gift for sympathy than any one of
the Ranch girls, appreciated what he was enduring more than she even
revealed to him.
She had been reading him a volume of Kipling one day, and happening to
raise her eyes, saw that he was not listening. She even stopped a few
moments and found that he was unaware of it.
When Captain MacDonnell did discover his own absorption, he turned to
Olive with a charming smile.
"Forgive me," he explained. "I do not intend to be ungrateful, indeed I
am more grateful than I know how to express. But those stories of India
started me to thinking of the first years I was out there. It is a
strange country, India. I don't think we western people understand it."
He and Olive were sitting on the Lodge verandah.
Olive nodded, "I do understand what you must feel and I do wish there
was something else to interest you."
Then she remained silent. After all Captain MacDonnell could not go on
in idleness like this. There must be something he could find to do, some
real thing. Poorer men were learning trades. It would be better for him
to do this if only he could be persuaded to feel enough interest.
Olive did not realize she was frowning.
Suddenly she exclaimed.
"Look here, Captain MacDonnell, didn't I hear Frank say once that you
used to be fond of drawing when you were a small boy, that you were once
undecided whether to be an artist or a soldier?"
Captain MacDonnell smiled. "I believe so, I've an idea I was a pretty
conceited youngster and would have made as much of a failure at one as
I have of the other."
But Olive refused to pay any attention to this speech.
For a moment Captain MacDonnell forgot himself thinking of how
attractive Olive looked.
He had not remembered thinking of this especially when they had met in
England, only that she was unusual looking and not in the least like an
American or English woman. It was almost as if she might be Spanish.
Captain MacDonnell also had some Spanish blood farther back in his own
family, when the Spanish were the great voyagers and visited and settled
on the coasts of Ireland.
But Olive went on talking.
"I do wish you would undertake the drawing again, it might at least
amuse you, and there are so many interesting people and scenes you could
attempt out here."
Captain MacDonnell shook his head.
"I'm afraid the time has gone by for that," he returned.
But Olive had a kind of gentle, sensible persistency that nearly always
wins its way.
"Still, there wouldn't be any harm in just seeing if it might amuse
you," she went on. "I am sure it would be a kind of relief."
Captain MacDonnell again looked at Olive. Her deep toned skin was softly
flushed and her dark eyes brilliant with earnestness.
He laughed a little. "Of course it will, a relief to you, so for that
reason I'll attempt it. But on one condition?"
Olive flushed a little with embarrassment, since she had never wholly
gotten over her shyness. However, she realized that Captain MacDonnell
was teasing her. He did very often when he was in a gay humor and Olive
felt it was good for her, as she was too inclined to be grave.
"What is the condition?" she inquired. "Of course it will be relief to
me to know you are happier," at which Captain MacDonnell felt that Olive
had scored.
"Why, that I won't have to keep on calling you Miss Van Mater. It is too
much of a name, just as mine is."
Captain MacDonnell was doubtful as to how Olive would receive this
suggestion. She seemed more formal than the rest of the family and he
had thought her colder until her great kindness to him. Now he at least
knew better than to misunderstand her shyness for coldness, as a good
many people did.
Olive replied perfectly naturally.
"Of course I will. The truth is I have always thought of you as Bryan,
as Jack and Frank always talked of you by this name."
His promise would have really passed out of Captain MacDonnell's mind if
Olive had not supplied him with a great variety of drawing materials
within a few days, which she had taken a good deal of trouble to secure
for him.
But as a matter of fact she was really surprised to discover how much
talent he had. But then Captain MacDonnell used to work for many hours
each day, so that it was not long before his former facility came back
to him. More than this, he discovered to his own surprise as well, that
he could do a great deal better work than he had as a boy. Somehow the
skill must have developed in him unheeded as he was growing older.
She came out on the lawn one afternoon and discovered Captain MacDonnell
at work a little distance off.
He had evidently persuaded one of the cowboys to pose for him, as the
man and his horse were standing in a picturesque attitude only a few
feet away.
Olive walked over to them and stood studying the drawing until Captain
MacDonnell turned round to speak to her.
"Why don't you say it is good?" he demanded boyishly. "You know I've
half an idea it is."
Olive nodded enthusiastically.
"It's like Remington."
Captain MacDonnell laughed. "Not quite. Still I am getting on. But it
seems to me you are neglecting me lately. I say, suppose you pose for
me. That would be ripping. You won't be sensitive if I don't make much
of a go just at first."
For a moment Olive hesitated. Then it struck her that she would enjoy
sitting outdoors in the early autumn sunshine for a few hours each day
with her friend. For Captain MacDonnell had become her friend by this
time, she had no doubts on this point. Moreover, she had made up her
mind she must soon go away. She had planned to take a course in nursing
so as to fit herself to be more useful, and there was really no reason
for further delay.
She happened to mention this fact to Captain MacDonnell one day and it
was remarkable after that what a time he took to finish his sketch.
The truth was the artist made not one sketch but half a dozen.
Jim and Ruth were delighted with his success, so that Captain MacDonnell
finally persuaded Olive to allow him to attempt a painting.
The work was undertaken inside the Lodge living room. Olive was dressed
in an old gold silk, and the artist insisted that she needed a
background of strange oriental colors.
One end of the great room was therefore changed into a studio.
Fortunately Ruth and Olive had still in their possession a number of
lovely old silks and draperies which the Ranch girls had brought back
from their trip to Italy many years before.
One day, after he had been working for about a month, Olive slipped
quietly into the studio without the artist's hearing her. She found him
sitting before his easel smoking, but frowning and looking less happy
than he had in some time.
But as he caught sight of Olive his expression changed.
"I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for making me so
lovely? I don't mind being handed down to posterity in such a
delightfully untruthful picture," Olive remarked gayly.
"Oh, it's untruthful enough," Captain MacDonnell answered. "It is well
you came in just when you did, as I was thinking of making an end of
it."
"Then I shouldn't have forgiven you."
Captain MacDonnell nodded.
"That is what I was afraid of, that and that you would not be willing to
sit for me again."
Olive laughed. "Oh, you must get hold of someone more attractive than I
am for the next portrait. After a while, as you are so much better,
you'll be wanting to go back to London to work seriously. You know you
have promised me that?"
Captain MacDonnell shook his head.
"No," he returned. "Oh, I don't mean that I did not promise, I only mean
that I shall probably not keep my word. I think I shall give up and
allow myself to become a kind of good for nothing, half invalid, as soon
as I am separated from you."
However, as she had by this time grown accustomed to her companion's
swift changes of mood, so unlike her own, Olive only laughed?
"Shall I pose for you again today?"
Then there was silence in the room for half an hour while Bryan worked.
Finally he put down his brushes.
"I am no good for work today, Olive. The truth is I want to say
something to you and I don't know whether I have the right.
"Olive!"
For an instant Olive changed color. Then she answered.
"I can hardly imagine anything you haven't the right to say to me,
Bryan. You often talk of your gratitude for what I have done for you.
But I wonder if you know what you have done for me? I have never had so
kind a friend except Jack. It is always difficult for me to think of her
as Lady Kent."
"But I am not your friend," Bryan returned brusquely, "and it is about
that and about Lady Jack I want to talk to you. The truth is it's absurd
to call a man your friend when he loves you. Of course I feel I am not
all of a man these days and I have not much money and my art may never
come to anything."
"Any more disqualifications, Bryan?" Olive asked softly. Perhaps she was
not altogether surprised at what she was at present hearing.
"Oh yes, a great many," Captain MacDonnell returned, "only I think I
won't tell you about them just now."
"And what has Jack to do with what you wish to say to me?" Olive asked,
and this time spoke more seriously.
"Oh, she has nothing at all to do with it now," Captain MacDonnell
returned. "Only once upon a time before I met you, I used to think Lady
Jack was the most attractive woman I had ever known. I used also to
believe that as long as Frank had gotten ahead of me I never wished to
marry. But I suppose the real fact was that I wanted one of what Lady
Jack told me you called yourselves? The Ranch Girls, wasn't it? Only I
had not seen the real one in those days."
"Look here, Bryan, you need not think I ever forget you are an
Irishman," Olive laughed. "Yet I think I like your flattery."
However, Captain MacDonnell was waiting for another kind of answer, and
after a little Olive gave him the one he desired.
So began for Olive, what still remains, in spite of all the other
adventures in life, the great adventure of marriage.