A DINNER PARTY
DINNER at Rainbow Lodge on the evening of Frank Kent's arrival was
sufficiently gay and delightful to make up for many preceding weeks of
quietness.
For not only was Frank's appearance an unexpected pleasure to the entire
family, but a few hours before sundown Ralph Merrit had returned home
with an old friend of his, whom quite by accident he had met in a nearby
town and persuaded to come with him for a short visit at the ranch.
Henry Tilford Russell was to be a new experience to the four girls,
since never in their wandering either at home or abroad had they met any
other young man in the least like him.
Before bringing his guest up to the Lodge for dinner Ralph had managed
to escape from him for a few moments in order to see Ruth privately and
to explain to her a few of his friend's peculiarities, so that no member
of the family need be unnecessarily surprised. For one thing, the
stranger was inordinately shy, disliking girls more than anything in the
whole world. In fact Ralph was at last obliged to confess that had his
friend guessed how many maidens he would be obliged to face at dinner,
gladly would he have preferred starvation to joining them. But since
Russell had asked no uncomfortable questions, Ralph had not felt in duty
bound to forewarn him. Then, as his guest was about thirty years old,
according to Frieda Ralston's calculations he was much too elderly
anyhow for the Ranch girls' consideration.
Yet notwithstanding all these drawbacks Ralph Merrit had been
exceedingly anxious to bring his friend to the Rainbow Ranch. For in
spite of the young man's shyness and social awkwardness, he was
exceptionally brilliant, and was regarded almost a genius in his chosen
line of work. Henry Tilford Russell was the assistant professor of
ancient languages in the University of Chicago and Ralph had known him
there in his own student days. However, he had recently suffered a
breakdown from overwork and was now in the West on a trip for his
health. But the fact about his former friend over which Ralph Merrit
was particularly enthusiastic and desired to have Ruth impart to the
girls, was that of his own free will Professor Russell had chosen the
life of a student. His father was a wealthy and prominent Chicago
lawyer, at one time the American Ambassador to Greece, so had the son
desired he might have followed the idle existence of most other rich
young men.
In the midst of seeing that the baby was safely stored away in his
silk-lined crib and that the table was set for extra guests, and that
Aunt Ellen prepare a specially good dinner, Ruth had no time for
extended conversation with the girls. She did manage to mention to Jean
and Frieda that Ralph had brought home a stranger to whom they were to
try to be agreeable. But this bit of information was almost swallowed up
in the more important news that Ralph had at last succeeded in getting
hold of a new set of men and that work on Rainbow Mine was to begin
again within the next day or so.
Then, soon after, Frank appeared, and everything else was forgotten in
the welcome to him.
Just as though he had been her older brother and Frieda a little girl,
Frank kissed her, insisting that she had grown, although at eighteen
Frieda certainly considered herself quite past the growing stage.
Introduced to the new baby, Frank did not seem in the least nervous or
abashed as most men are by such very tiny persons. Indeed, he apparently
had overcome all his old reserve and shyness and without this was simple
and charming, as persons of high birth and breeding are most apt to be.
Fifteen minutes before dinner Ruth had positively to force the four
girls to dress. Then, as Jim was getting ready at the same time, she had
a few moments alone with Frank Kent.
"You know what I have come for, don't you, Mrs. Colter--Ruth?" Frank
began with the directness that the woman had always admired in him.
Ruth made no pretense of not understanding. "It would be hard for all of
us, and I don't see how Jim would be able to get along on the ranch
without Jack," she replied. "For you see he and Jack really are like
'partners,' their old name for each other. But if it is for Jack's
happiness you know how we should all feel. But, Frank, I feel I must
warn you that Jack won't be easy to win, and it is because I care for
you so much that I hope you will not be discouraged. She is not just
like most girls, and----"
Frank nodded. "I have understood that all along," he interrupted. "Still
there is one thing, Ruth, that you do not know. Last summer I persuaded
Jack to confess that she did care for me. Yet she insisted that there
was something, she could not explain to me what it was, that stood in
our way--some barrier that had to be broken down before she could
consent to marry me. What it was I don't know and that is one of the
things I have come half way across the world to find out. Can you guess
of any possible obstacle to Jack's feeling for me?"
In a puzzled fashion Ruth Colter drew her delicate brows together.
Frank's remark had startled and surprised her. "No, not unless it is her
affection for us and the ranch," she replied.
Before another confidence could be exchanged, Jim had stamped into the
living room, looking bigger and more splendid than ever, suggesting the
strong wind from his own beloved prairies. A few moments later Ralph
Merrit and his guest followed, and afterwards Olive, Jean and Jack.
Perhaps because she remembered that Frank had always liked her best in
white, Jack wore a plain white silk dress cut square in the neck and
with no trimming but the girdle and little ruffle of lace. It was a
dress which she had owned for over a year, and Frieda was annoyed with
her for wearing it on the evening of Frank's arrival. Notwithstanding,
as there was no time to change after her sister's protest, Frieda
finally conceded as Jack left the room that she did look fairly well.
For the truth was that no one of the older girl's more elaborate toilets
could have suited her half so well.
Jack was pale and not altogether sure whether she was the more happy or
unhappy over Frank's presence, yet somehow her unusual pallor was not
unattractive, with her burnished brown and gold hair and the healthy
scarlet of her lips. Then in some indefinable fashion Jack's expression
had recently grown gentler, indeed tonight her manner held a certain
timidity, giving her one of the charms that she sometimes lacked.
Both Olive and Jean were also simply dressed, since their dinner party
was an impromptu one and entirely informal. Olive had on a lavender
muslin with a bunch of Frieda's violets at her waist, while Jean was
dressed in a pale yellow voile frock with primroses embroidered upon it.
Ralph Merrit frowned and then tried to smile as Jean came forward to
shake hands, congratulate him and meet his guest, "What right had a poor
fellow even to dream of a girl so fitted by beauty and grace to every
high position? Suppose by some miracle Jean should in time learn to care
for him, what would he have to offer her? Here was Frank Kent (and Ralph
was perfectly aware of Frank's intention), and if Jack cared for him she
would have all the things of this world that Jean so frankly loved,
wealth, a high social position and one day an old English title."
But while Ralph Merrit was continuing to pursue this wholly futile train
of thought, Jean was every now and then glancing toward him demurely
from under her heavy shaded brown eyes with a look which he perfectly
understood.
"What in the world is the matter with your friend, Mr. Russell?" the
look said plain as any words. For Jean was doing her level best to talk
to the stranger and in return for her efforts he would not even turn
towards her.
On first being introduced to Jacqueline the Professor had turned crimson
to the tips of his large ears, though in a measure he had been prepared
for one girl, since Ralph had mentioned a "Miss Ralston" in connection
with the ownership of the Rainbow Mine. Later the meeting with Olive had
added resentment to his confusion. Why had Merrit not warned him of what
he would have to endure? Jean was an impossible third. Why, no such
misfortune as meeting with three girls had overtaken him since he
reached the great womanless West! For though the West did have its
tiresome quota of females, so far he had managed to escape speaking to
any of them except on strictly business matters.
Well, he was in for it now, and would have to endure the evening as best
he could; yet already he had made up his mind to escape as soon as
daylight came in the morning.
Jean's well-meant efforts to make herself agreeable to Ralph's friend
were entirely wasted; yet after dinner was announced the young Professor
found himself more at ease. For fortunately he had been placed on Mrs.
Colter's left and next him was an empty chair--evidently for some member
of the family not at home he thought with a suppressed sigh of relief.
Overhearing Frank Kent ask some question of interest in regard to the
mine, Professor Russell forgot his embarrassment sufficiently to add
several questions and comments of his own. And it happened to be during
one of his own speeches that an unexpected movement near him made him
glance toward the empty chair.
"Great Scott! Was this a big wax doll about to take her place next him?"
Yet, though the doll was struggling with the chair and evidently trying
to draw it out from under the table, it never occurred to Henry Tilford
Russell to render her the slightest assistance, in spite of the fact
that she was smiling at him appealingly out of the very largest and
bluest eyes he had ever seen.
The lateness of Frieda Ralston's entrance did not appear to have
surprised her family, who were entirely accustomed to it; however, the
magnificence of her dinner toilet plainly did. For whatever had inspired
Frieda to dress up as she had? It was small wonder that she was late.
Even in the midst of her duties as hostess Ruth Colter's gray eyes
widened and it was on the tip of her tongue to scold Frieda for her
foolishness. Yet, recovering herself in time and recalling the presence
of their guests, she said nothing.
With a faint suggestion of reproach Jack shook her head at her sister,
while Jean and Olive openly smiled at each other. So the situation would
have passed off without any unpleasantness if it had not been for Jim
Colter. When would Ruth teach Jim that he was not to tease the Ranch
girls before strangers just as if they were tiny children?
With real astonishment and some mock admiration Jim stared at the latest
comer, at the same time giving a characteristic chuckle and low whistle.
Then, in spite of the fact that Jack, who was sitting near, gave his
foot a warning pressure, he exclaimed:
"What in heaven's name, Baby, does all that finery mean? You aren't
going to a ball later on this evening, are you, and forgotten to mention
it?"
Then, with everybody at the table staring at her, Frieda felt her lips
beginning to tremble and her eyes fill with tears, as at last she
slipped into her place. Why should her appearance create so much
comment? She had dressed up because she wished to and for no other
special reason.
Often in the past year when things at the Lodge had been dull for a long
time she had amused herself in trying on her pretty clothes. No one had
ever objected before, but now, just because there were strangers, or at
least one stranger, present, she had to be made the object of family
criticism and ridicule. If only they were alone Frieda felt that she
would like to tell Jim and everybody just how hateful they were. For of
course there had been no thought in her mind of Ralph's guest when she
had put on her blue _crepe de chine_ dress with its low neck and elbow
sleeves and floating chiffon draperies. The costume had been a present
from her sister, Jack, who always could save more of her income than she
or Jean. She had only wished to find out whether it was becoming to her
and that was why she had also taken so much time and care in fixing her
hair. Certainly she knew that Ralph's guest would be as old as the
hills--Ralph had plainly stated that he would be.
Frieda gave a little start, which she promptly repressed so that no one
should notice it, when she heard a pleasant voice whispering
unexpectedly close to her ear:
"Don't mind their teasing you; I think you look--just jolly."
And in reply Frieda smiled tremulously upon the newcomer.
He was old, just as she had expected--his hair was already beginning to
grow thin upon the top of his head. He was slender and delicate looking
and of only medium height, yet his eyes were certainly the brownest and
almost the kindest that she had ever seen, in spite of the fact that
they had a kind of absent, far-away expression even while they seemed to
be fastened upon her.
"Thank you," Frieda returned a second later, having by this time
regained both her lost dignity and self-possession. But this time the
younger Miss Ralston found their latest visitor displaying a curious
eccentricity. Now he was plainly laughing at her. Naturally Frieda could
not have dreamed that Professor Russell, whom Ruth had finally concluded
to introduce to her, considered her a little girl of about fourteen.
Otherwise, not for anything in the world, would he have made the speech
which he first addressed to her.
The truth was that this old-young Professor was extremely fond of
children and only objected to girls after they had grown up. Then
because he was so shy himself he had a keen sympathy for embarrassment
in other people. So it was to these two causes that Frieda owed his
friendliness.
Nevertheless, as she was entirely unconscious of this fact, Frieda
continued to talk to him very calmly and comfortably during the entire
meal. He did appear surprised over an occasional remark of hers, but as
he hardly ever answered, Frieda guessed that this might be his method of
revealing his appreciation of her attentions. Actually the two of them
were out on the porch with every one else vanished from sight for the
moment before Professor Russell entirely awoke to the fact that, though
his companion was still extremely young, she could not exactly be
regarded as a baby.