The Ranch Girls and Their Great Adventure

"No," Lady Kent answered apparently in a state of abstraction, "I don't suppose he did." But at the moment she made no mention of the information Olive had brought her concerning Frieda.

As they reached Kent House and were entering the broad hall, Jack said to her husband under her breath, so that Olive who was a little in advance of them, did not hear:

"There is something else you have on your mind, isn't there, Frank – some news you have not yet told me?"

Frank Kent nodded.

"Yes, Jack, something so serious that I dare not speak of it even to you. Perhaps it will all blow over though, and I may be able to discuss the subject with you in a few days."

CHAPTER II

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.